


„The Broken Lark’s illusionary singing”

by MatthewSane



Series: How a bard went insane and forced a family of lone wolves together [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: (but fluff's for later), (but he doesn't know yet), (partial) mind break, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cursed Jaskier | Dandelion, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, General Whump, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Hurt Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion Whump, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Multi, No Beta, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, Past Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Post-Battle of Sodden Hill, Post-Episode: S01E06 Rare Species, Psychological Torture, Torture, Work In Progress, flower names symbolism, more curses, more tags will/ can be added, original sorcresess bc I need them for plot, slow burn?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:21:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 37,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27858254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MatthewSane/pseuds/MatthewSane
Summary: It’s almost 2 months after the Mountain Incident and Jaskier is sitting at a tavern, drinking his sorrows away. About Geralt, his sorry state of being (no lute, low on coin, alone), fall of Cintra just 2 weeks ago, fate and everything else. He though he was going to stay by the witcher’s side forever, but life’s no fairy tale. So more ale for him.In the corner Nilfgaardian soldiers get ready to kidnap the bard and give him to their wicked sorceress leader to force information from him about the lost princess. She may torture and curse him to get what they need, but hey, what can you expect from Fringilla Vigo’s student?Geralt’s 100% done with destiny. He’s with Ciri and has to hide from Nilfgaard's forces. And he still has to find Yennefer and beg her to locate his bard, damn it! And he needs to apologise if he wants to get his “dear heart” back.Yennefer licks her wound hidden in Brudge and contemplates her life.Triss helps fellow mages in Vizima.Lambert and Eskel travel south in search of Geralt, because they got letters from his bard saying their brother will need help.Oh, and they don’t even know about half of the shitshow it’s about to become. Truly ballad worthy story.
Relationships: Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher), Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Triss Merigold/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Series: How a bard went insane and forced a family of lone wolves together [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2039458
Comments: 54
Kudos: 177





	1. The cursed beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, as you can probably see/read this is my first fanfic. My native language isn't English and my interactions with the canon consist of playing the 3rd game, watching gameplays of the first two, reading a few fragments of the books for school and watching one or two episodes of the series on Netflix.  
> So yeah... canon? I don't know who are you talking about.  
> Narrative consistency? Don't know her either.  
> This will probably be updated VERY infrequently, because of private life. BUT I do have a rough outline how I want things to go (at least in part one of the story; yes I hope to write multiple; I know ambitious for a first fic) and the main "scenes" are outlined. I should probably also mention that this has been inspired by a different fanfic with a similar premise: Jaskier getting abducted, tortured and forced to relive different visions of Geralt saving him, which get more and more realistic and slowly break him. (Spoiler, I guess?) It ended with a pretty opened ending where you didn't know if the last scene where real or also an illusion, but whatever you don't need to have a satisfying ending. (Yes, this fic is a result of frustration over it; no I'm not acting like a child at all, stop looking at me in this way; this is finee....)  
> This is going to start very similar, but will (I hope) quickly change into it's own story.  
> There will be a lot of violence at the beginning until the "middle point" and angst will follow, but after that the atmosphere will basically turn 180 degrees and be a LOT lighter and goofy. At that point most relationships will also be in full swing and some fluffy scenes will appear.  
> So with all that said/ written: please enjoy :)
> 
> Edit 23.12.2020.  
> I'm writing a more detailed timeline and overall structure of the story in the background and will correct some parts of already posted chapters, probably change the summary, tags etc. I hope to do it before end of my winter vacation and start posting more "professional " and well thought out chapters.  
> I'm sorry for the inconvenience...

Jaskier’s siting in an old tavern at the end of its bar. It’s been almost two months (48 days, 6 hours and 23 minutes, but who's counting? ) since **the Mountain Incident** and everything is going to shit. Not only did his best friend and lo- muse tell him he's responsible for all his life's misfortunes, but the guilt of also lying to hi- the Witcher for nearly two decades burns through the last pieces of his heart. He, of course told some of his secrets, like how his real name is Julian and such other unimportant bits, but not the **big ones.** Not how he in reality is a viscount. How he’s pretty sure his father’s side of the family isn’t fully human, but really that's just gossip. He has no special bit in his body and he worked hard to achive his fame. How deep he had fallen for the White Wolf, and broke a little bit more every time he thrown him aside to be with that gods-awful witch. But who could blame him, she’s everything the bard’s not. And supposedly they are tied with a wish. A FUCKING WISH! How can one mortal beat that?

_Of course he would tell me to go away. Who would want a deceitful fly as a companion. He probably thinks all our interactions were used for my songs. WHICH IS NOT TRUE! Oh, how stupid I was to think I could be more...  
The gentle smiles he had shown me from time to time... They were just for me... Or so I though. Apparently my judge of character was oh so fucking wrong. Apparently I only shovel shit at the gorgeous, handsomely musc- NOPE! Not going in that direction thoughts! Not tonight and not again! Another sip of ale, yes, that’s what I need since I still have enough coin to buy it._

The bard has been fighting such intrusions in his mind ever since he descended from the last place he saw Geralt. But fate would not let him drown his sorrows in ale in peace. Cintra has fallen just barely 2 weeks ago. The gossip has already spread far and wide. Impressive feat since the Nilfgaardian army supposedly left no one alive in their wake. They say they are searching for something. And Jaskier already knows that it’s not something, but **someONE.** The princess Cirilla more specifically. He remembers her from when from pure curiosity 5 ( or was it 6?) years ago when he left south to play at her birthday celebration. From what he could remember she looked as if she really was Geralt’s child. Not of surprise but of blood. Her mannerisms reminded everybody who knew the Witcher personally of the White Wolf, but feared to tell since Calanthe was always listening. And the looks. The ashen hair, and eyes that also shined like gems. Emeralds instead of ambers and gold. 

He knows he should rush back and search for her, but that may lead him back to Geralt, since the words on the wind whisper he’s the one she’s hiding with. Oh, gods he hopes it’s true. He hopes they ran away to the Witcher’s keep and are safe and sound. And a family. Oh how he wishes to be a part of it. To be at Geralt’s side as an equal and cherished husband raising Ciri and hiding from the world in their own little bubble... This is really getting too much for his poor heart. 

_I need another mug of ale... or wine. Melitele, why they don’t have wine?_

\- EY!!! BARKEEP!! Bring me another ale, good man!- shouts Jaskier, already putting the coins on the wooden surface of the bar in front of him.  
\- I hear ya, bardling. No need to shout.- responded the nervous and tired owner of the tavern, looking to the men in his peripheral vision.

From the corner of the Tavern a group of 3 soldiers with a sun emblem on their chests and backs sat in awe. They found a way to get not only promoted, but also to get the crazy witch they have been stuck with off their backs. The Witcher’s Bard. Who else can know where the mutant is hiding? Nobody. They just have to wait to ambush him when he’ll be leaving. Then the songbird will sing and tell them where to find the princess. They get up slowly and left to plan their ambush.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Geralt is 100 percent **done** with fate and destiny and the whole world. He’s currently siting under a tree near the Brokilon forest. He’s just found Ciri, who’s laying next to him and they have been avoiding Nilfgaard ever since. They’re low on supplies and still need to get two very important people before they try to trek to Kaer Morthen. Yennefer to help with Ciri’s magic that’s simmering just under her skin. And Geralt’s heart: his songbird Jaskier that he hurt and needs to make sure is safe during the war. It's been nearly 2 months since then but he still is in pain for that encounter. He needs Jaskier with him in the keep, preferably, but first he needs to apologise. He knows what he did and said was wrong, but strong emotions are so hard for him to comprehend. Not to mention actually reacting to them in a healthy manner. He's a witcher for Gods' sake! He souldn't have emotions. He didn’t want to lose Jaskier too early because of his life on The Path, and certainly doesn’t want him to lose his life in a war now! It’s no place for a bard. Especially his bard. But he needs to rest first. He hears Jaskier voice telling him so: “You need to rest first Geralt, or you won’t be able to save anybody, darling” in a voice barely hiding the emotions underneath. He doesn’t know if Jaskier loves him, but nobody cared for him like that since... ever. He even doesn’t treat himself that way. And how he misses it.

It’s going to be hard to find him now. The sorceress is easy. They are bound by his misplaced wish so they can feel where the other is when they focus. But the bard? He has no way to locate him on his own. He needs to first find Yen and beg her to locate the person she seemingly hates. And it’s going to be a difficult conversation since he also joined that list a few weeks back. On that **fucking mountain.** He now fucking hates dragons and mountains that are not the ones where the Wolf's keep is. 

His internal brooding almost nudges Ciri out of sleep, so he stops thinking in the future and focuses on now. They need supplies. Not only food, but also clothing and a place to heal enough to reach Keer Morthen. From starvation and running he’s lost some of his mass and his fighting attempts reflect this. He can’t be weak. If not for himself then for his child sleeping next to his lap. Shit, he doesn’t even know when he started thinking of her as his daughter. Something he was designed NOT to be able to have.  
Fuck...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaskier’s stumbling out of the tavern and spills out into the street. It’s a small village, barely big enough for a tavern in the shadows of a bigger city, but he was able to find a farmer that allowed to sleep in his barn after an exchange of a few coins. They are the last things he has really. He left his lute and some other belonging when he hastily left the top of the Cursed Mountain and hadn’t noticed until it was too late to go back. Ehh... damn these things anyway. He doesn’t need reminders of his former muse. He has enough coin from his emergency stash that he can survive and travel further north. He can even earn money without his beautiful lute. HA! Take that fucking Valdo fucking Marx!

Barely holding himself up he doesn’t notice the 3 soldiers surrounding him until it’s too late.  
\- Gentlemen! What can I hep yu this evenninnnng.. ? – he asks them, sluring few words  
\- We know who you are, bardling. Your that mutant’s bitch that follows him everywhere. And now you’re going to come with us and tell where he’s hiding- sneers the one in front of him.  
\- I have no idea who aer yu talking abut. Am juss a simple bart as yu sait. Evenn if I WASS traveilin with him he leffft me. So takee thhat, even he didnn want mee... – Replies Jaskier, almost crying, but holding it in. No need to show him how weak he really is.  
\- Oh, but I think you can tell us where he’ll be hiding. After all you travelled with him for what? 20 years? You must know where the mutant hides to lick his wound like the dog he is!- Says the one on his left. Chuckling at his own joke. Jaskier’s anger flares up within him. HOW DARE THEY!  
But before he even manages to connect his fist the third soldier grabs him from behind and muffles his screams with his hand. They drag him behind a corner into darkness where they use one of their sheathed swords to connect it with the bard’s temple. He goes out like a light. 

They take him under the cover of night to their camp made inside the ruins of an old bastion near Maribor where their witch is waiting for scouts to return with information about the Witcher’s whereabouts. When they get there and tell her who they brough along her wicked smile is the creepiest thing they ever seen. Yes, the mage Antira, under Fringilla Vigo's command will have a lot of work on her hands in the dungeons in the next few days and will bring herself higher in the order of mages of Nilfhgaard. She’ll be the one who tells her superior where the mutant is heading with the princess. Even if she has to curse and kill for it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The sorceressess' name comes from the flower Antirrhinum- you can find it's meaning on your own to spoiler yourself or later. Your choise.
> 
> Creative critisisms always welcomed :)
> 
> Have a nice morning/day/night and thank you for reading!


	2. Ups... The torture has begun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier gets acquainted with Antira and her "hobby"  
> It's going to be fine, I promise!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please remember: I'm writting this in the scraps of free time I have, so not a lot of time to do anything.  
> I hope I won't have to discontinue this, but to be honest... I can't be 100% certain  
> Edited 25.12.2020. (merry Chrismas!)

When Jaskier started to float up into consciousness he realized few things.

 **One:** he must have been knocked out for a long while because he doesn’t feel tipsy or hangover whatsoever.

 **Two:** He’s bound to a table that reminds him of a one a medic might use when examining a patient. But... His wrists, arms, ankles and thighs have been surrounded by thick rope and tied to it. While his head, shoulders, stomach and calves had the same treatment with sturdy, but worn out looking black leather strips directly connected to the table. He lays there stiff and in a straight line like a board, with barely any give. 

__

__

This starts up his brain activity into overdrive.

__

Where is he?  
What happened?  
Why is he bound to a table in a middle of a room reeking of... wait... **IS THAT BLOOD?!**

__

Panic quickly envelops his mind and he tries to scream for help, only to notice things three and four:

__

**Three:** He has been gaged with a part of his dirty teal doublet _Ewww..._

__

**Four:** And he’s in a room underground, made of uneven, stone bricks and which is filled with a large amount of items that look like torture devices he has seen during his travels and many other he doesn’t recognise. And doesn't want to know how they are used.

__

Adding to the atmosphere are also present everywhere bottles full of concoctions or monster (?) body parts floating in thick liquids. 

__

Also it’s very dirty in here, and dust floats freely around the room. 

__

_Yep, this is how I’m gonna die. Tortured for Gods know how long and then slowly killed for... who knows what. I demand to know what is my crime first!_

__

Then he sees the sun emblem on the piece of armour hanged on the heavy and sturdy looking wooden door.  
**The Great Sun.**  
Which means **Nilfgaard.**  
Which means that emperor **Emhyr var Emreis** has him in his grasp and at his mercy. Or his subordinates in the army in this case.  
Which means he’s not here as a criminal, but an information source about Ciri’s whereabout... 

__

_Damn it!_

__

_This is bad. Really bad!_

__

His recollections of the moments just before his forced nap slowly trickle back into his brain. The huge amount of ale he consumed, his shouting and gathering of attention when he should have been silent and hiding, the three soldiers that ambushed him when he left. 

__

And now this... _lovely. Just. **Lovely**_

__

His internal panic is stopped dead in its tracks when the door opens and two figures walk in.  
One: a big, strong looking soldier without most of his armour, in plain, common clothes. He looks very tired. Possibly anxious? Jaskier wouldn’t know at first the source of such anxiety but then he looks to the next person that have entered the chamber. 

__

It’s a woman that looks so out of place that there’s only one explanation as to who she is and what she is doing here. 

__

_A witch._

__

And she’s probably the leader of this group of soldiers. 

__

She’s taller than most women Jaskier has seen, with such symmetrical beauty it’s obviously fake and of magical origin. Her brown eyes look at him with something akin to... joy?

__

_Oh great, a sadistic mage. Such an original combination._

__

Her lips and hair as red as they can be. The dress she wears, long and deep crimson coloured, follows her movements barely making any sound on the floor. All of her looks too like royalty next to the rugged soldier and dirty chamber. 

__

Well dungeon more accurately, now that Jaskier knows what is in it and can guess how these instruments are used and on whom. 

__

The soldier stands next to the door, blocking the path of escape (really as if Jaskier had any chance of freeing himself from these numerous binds) and seemingly putting himself as far from the mage as possible. While she just coos and moves closer to the bard’s head:

__

\- Oh hello little bardling! You’ve finally woken up. Honestly I was too tired of waiting for your body to heal itself of the alcohol you wasted your coin on, so I helped you with a little bit of chaos. – she whispered in a cruel imitation of a mother soothing her child.

__

\- GmHHMH!! OHUHM! – Jaskier tried to scream through the gag.

__

\- Oh, stop this now. I know how you love to sing, so let’s make a deal, shall we? I will take away this scrap of rags you call clothing and in exchange you will tell me where your mutant is with the princess. OK? Ok. – She repeated while already untying the gag around the bard’s head. 

__

Now, we all know that Jaskier’s survival instincts are lacking so he choses that moment to unleash his fury at the mage. In a style and tone he is sure works with their kind. It worked with the hag called Yennefer, didn’t it?

__

\- Well, you see I don’t know any mutants. The only person good natured enough to help a princess that I know is the White Wolf – he said with a smirk that slowly fell from his face when the Antira’s face became full of disgust and anger. She quickly raises her hand to his neck and starts to apply pressure.

__

\- Ohh really?... The little songbird wants to play smart? Fine then. I will entertain you this once. We’ll see for how long you’ll try to act like the stain on society you are. Angus, start the fire for the brands, will you?- she spits the sentences covered in venom. They freeze Jaskier’s blood on the spot. 

__

\- Well, pretty lady there’s no ne..- he tries to defend himself in a raspy voice. But the mage has heard enough. The bird won’t speak now. He’s too strong in the mind. She needs to shatter it just right for him to spill his secrets. She replaces his gag and moves to a corner in the dimly lit room. 

__

\- But of course, of course, you are a bard so you must be a good actor. So why won’t you play the role of a quiet mouse for now. I’ll need you to be shrieking later.- she throws over her shoulder from where she’s working on her next step. The soldier, Angus apparently, has already readied the fire to heat up the brands of the Great Sun in it’s flames. 

__

They’ll glow orange in no time.

__

\- Angus, what do you think is better? Partial skinning or shallow lacerations covered in salt ?- she asks like this is an everyday situation. Who knows, maybe for her, it is.

__

\- I think t-the la-lacerations hurt less initially an-and give him better chance of survival, my lady- lady Antira...- the soldier says meekly and stuttering , not looking up from his shoes which suddenly became very interesting.

__

\- Hmmm.... good reasoning my assistant. Skinning it is. For this little birdie we are going all out. He reacts very well to my chaos so healing and hurting him over and over will be child’s play.- she scoffs at the look of terror both men throw at her.

__

She goes back to her work. 

__

The soldier lowers his head while Jaskier tries to kill her with his stare. 

__

But that is only on the outside. In his mind he curses every god he know and every secret he forced Geralt to tell him. And also the methods they will use to try and get them out of him. 

__

_Oh merciful Melitele, have mercy! Fucking fuck fan-fuck-tastic shit! They are going to use me to get to Geralt! OK Jaskier think what would the terrifying Witcher do in this situation? Brake the bindings with his strength. But I, as a meek bard don’t have any! Especially after running solely on ale! Magic! Do I know any mag- oh who am I kidding I can’t rescue myself. I’m not Yennefer of Vengerberg. I’m just a stupid viscount turned bard without any fighting skills. I mean I guess I had my basic fencing classes in Oxenfurt, but that was years ago! Even my damned father couldn’t pass me the family’s supposed supernatural abilities. I’m just a useless human! Calm, yes calm down Jaskier this is not the place nor time. They can’t know how you feel. It will give them too much satisfaction already._

__

While thinking in his head a mile a second the bard doesn’t notice the witch’s grin as she looks at her new chew toy. 

__

Her specialty in chaos lays in the senses so she enchanted her own just after completing her training. She can smell every bit of fear, panic and confusion the bard oozes from his body. Such delicious combination. She leaves her newest creation for a while to start her play. Moving out of bard’s sight she takes the branding iron, now hot and softly glowing, and levitates it as to not burn herself. At the sight of that her subordinate almost pisses himself. Then she looks him in the eye and she whispers to him:

__

\- If you’re so scared go outside and wait. I can play with our bard myself. Just remember to bring me my supplies and be at attention all the time, clear _darling?_ \- she sweetly remarks. The soldier Angus flees the scene that’s about to unfold. He knows the witch's methods and they aren't pretty.

__

\- So when were we my birdie? Ahh yes.... It’s time for you to try and scream like a banshee.- she laughs as she presses the iron to the bard’s chest. Burning his clothing and skin.

__

**\- MHHYHMMMGHHHHG!!! MNGHHMMMMM!!!** – Jaskeir tries to scream but is powerless to do anything else. His mind repeats the same though: better me then Geralt or Ciri; please may they be safe.  
The sorceress puts away the rod of metal, a fresh wound in the shape of a sun now lays asymmetrically on the bard’s skin next to his right nipple. It was almost burned off. The blood burnt into even richer crimson then her dress.

__

\- Oh, such beautiful song my birdie! I’ll make you sing some more for me! Hahahha! – she cackles and continues her work. 

__

The newest project forgotten in the moment on the worktable a few feet away.

__

Jaskier’s screams can be heard for at least next few hours aboveground, in between his torture; only when the witch tries to force him to answer her question. Usually after a beat of silence the singing of the bard can be heard and the cycle of screams, question, song repeats. Some soldiers look at each other with pity for the bard. If he could just tell them everything they would just kill him quickly. But no, he must ruin their peaceful tournament of Gwent with his screaming and singing.

__

The witch doesn’t leave the dungeons for more time than necessary.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creative critisisms always welcomed :)
> 
> Have a nice morning/day/night and thank you for reading!


	3. Waking up and getting closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short interlude with Geralt and Ciri getting ready to travel to another town and Geralt has some internal struggles :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this separately because the next part of Jaskier's "adventure" isn't ready yet and do not know if you would prefer to have chapters divided into Geralt and Jaskier, or together in one with changing in between scenes.  
> Personally I prefer the latter method, but as I said I'm still writing very important part of the next chapter of Jaskier's story. 
> 
> So let me know what you think and please enjoy this short scene in a forest.  
> Edited:25.12.2020. (Merry Chrismas!)

-Ciri, we have to go. – a gentle voice wakes the former princess from sleep. 

-Geralt? What's happening? Are we being attacked? It’s still dark...- she tries to ask through a yawn. They don’t usually travel during the night, only when they are close to being found but she can feel that today’s a little different.

-We have to go to the city.- the witcher replies with the least amount of words possible spoken. Even if it’s a lot more than his classic “hmm...”. 

Only one person can distinguish between all of them with clarity. And now he needs to get up and going before his mind spirals onto itself with that topic **again.** Before he even has a chance to find the brittle human and protect him.

-Because?...- Ciri questions, her mind still between sleep and waking.

-Supplies. And I'm sure we’re going to meet one of the people I told you about in Brudge. –  
he explains already throwing their bedrolls and packs onto Roach’s and random stallion’s backs. 

They found it near a destroyed battlefield. It’s not the most trained thing, but a horse is a horse and they needed it to carry what they had. And Roach of course is trusted with the Witcher’s most _precious possessions._

His swords when not in need. Thou that rarely happens now. His armour pieces, alchemical tools and ingredients, sharpening whetstones and the most precious bundle of all.

Jaskier’s pack and lute, still carried in it’s case.

Geralt found them during the morning after he exploded onto the man that always stood by his side. For a moment it gave him hope he was still there, but then he noticed that the bard’s satchel with his money and most of other things were taken. 

Just enough to be caried on bard’s own shoulders. 

He left the things that he had acquired indirectly or directly thanks to Geralt. The most obvious being the lute, but other’s were also present. 

A silver dagger with some resemblance of decoration. Garalt’s first real gift after one of his winters in the keep. The design rugged and uneven, barely recognisable. Jaskier of course teased him at first, but soon they came to an agreement that he just had to try to decorate it for the bard to even try to use it.

It sparked a _tradition_ of sorts between them. 

Whenever they separated for longer periods of time, one or the other would unintentionally have something the other might appreciate more, or could use in their trade. 

No **real feelings** attached to the brand new and sharp hunting knives the bard would miraculously find at the bottom of his pack. 

No **real meaning** behind the scented oils that clogged the Witcher’s nose, but the musician loved to use. In small doses thank the gods. 

They meant **nothing,** really. At the time they weren’t friends even. And that’s why most of these that supposedly belonged to the bard, but were given by the witcher are again in his possession. 

He stares at them a little too long. Ciri looking at him with understanding in her eyes. He told her most of the important parts of his story. Those she didn’t know from the Jaskier’s ballads at least. She knows mostly what happened that day on the mountain, and is certain she figured out the parts her new father figure didn’t want to talk about. 

-I’m ready, let’s go- she says softly, bringing Geralt back to reality after they pack everything and take care of their morning routines.

-Hmmm... – such a classical answer. And yet it somehow brings comfort to the girl. 

Soon they will be crossing the gates of the city named Brudge where they’ll meet Yennefer and try to restock and get ready for their journey further, while hiding in the shadows of the town.

They are oblivious to the happenings that at their point in time were dragging on more than a few days. 

The prisoner dragged from one of the neighbouring villages changed forever in the ruins of a forgotten bastion on the other side of the settlement. 

A little more than two hours on foot if one were to hurry. 

But soon even them won’t be able to ignore it for long. The consequences of the things set there in motion were only getting started. After a new source of information about Ciri was found and drained a **new horror** has awakened. 

Because before they will get a chance to set foot in the city and finish their business a new danger and adventure will already be on its way. 

Terrible and powerful. A tale fit for a bard’s ballad full of **death and destiny, heroics and heartbreak. Curses and creepy hummings.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Creative criticism greatly appreciated ;)
> 
> Have a nice morning/ afternoon/ night  
> and thank you for reading.


	4. Cursed Magnum Opus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antira has enough of the stubborn bard and decides to pull out the big guns.  
> Jaskier unfortunately doesn't have the best time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a part of an even bigger chapter (that as I'm writing, is twice the length of until now posted chapters), but I'm an impatient guy, so here.  
> No need to stop posting a basically finished scenes to wait for a wall of text.  
> Now you get to enjoy Jaskier's suffering earlier!  
> Also here the story start's getting "interesting".  
> Sorry, not sorry :)  
> Enjoy!  
> Edited: 25.12.2020. (Happy holidays!)

_The time has lost its meaning._

The bard only knows that another wave of pain washes over his body. It’s been sliced, burnt, twisted and broken time and time again. Sometimes with the gag in his mouth or hanging loosely around his throat. Each time he bites through it a new one is made from his shrinking and damaged and filthy clothes that barely hang onto his body. The witch changed his restraints into heavy metal cuffs so he may not only **sing,** but **dance** for her as well. They bite into his skin that now isn’t always being healed. Just like his throat, now made sore and swollen. His singing nothing more than a few raspy whispers while screams weak and shaky. The witch did not find his singing heroic ballads about Geralt as amusing as he.

\- Ohh... again songbird? I’ve just started to pour the acid.- the wicked sorceress coos at the physically broken man. She was holding a beaker with a strong acid and was pouring it into wounds made by her rusty and painfully dull dagger.   
She healed him over a few dozen times in the two days in her care. In reality this was no longer serving any purpose other than her amusement. 

Her **magnum opus,** a curse gifted to her from the court sorceress of Nilfgaard, the great witch **Fringilla** that she has infused with her own talents is finishing brewing through its final stage in the corner. 

The Continent haven’t seen such monstrosity during any part of its long history. 

She learned quickly that the bard had a very resilient mind and loyal soul so the literal approach of breaking him wouldn’t work. 

But the curse she has prepared? 

It can drive even the most resilient mad. Even a mutant as strong as the White Wolf wouldn’t be capable of resisting its power for too long. At least that’s her theory.  
While interrogating the bard she can squeeze in a little bit of experimentation after all. Just as her mentor says: _“if you can do multiple things with one act, why should you limit yourself? “_

And also she’s curious as to what the result of her new self-evolving curse will be. Well not hers but Fringilla’s, although she’s the one who added her own twists. The mage can’t wait to be able to finally test it. It's the first of it's kind because it has the ability to gain more power over time and change its parts. So it has to be controlled as to not allow it to gain more power than its caster is capable of controlling.

So now, since it’s time, she casts a quick spell to stop the acid from burrowing further into the red, yellow and black flesh of her plaything and steps over to the potion.

\- Hmmm... yes. Finally, it’s done.- she inspects her creation in deep thought. The black abyss swirlling in front of her eyes.

\- I’ve waited over a day for it to finish brewing, you know birdie? You should honestly be honoured to be treated with the most powerful curse ever created. – she smirked at the still seemingly defiant look in the bard’s eyes.

-Fuu...ckkk... y-youu...- rasp the abused vocal chords from hours of screaming, singing and throwing curses at the witch, and _actually_ throwing up.

-No, I don’t think so.- she responds smugly while bringing the finished concoction closer to the bard’s mouth. The catalyst of the curse.

He immediately starts to try to thrash and move away, but his body is too abused to be of any help. 

Made pink and raw from constantly skinning and growing anew when the old one was sliced off by various methods. 

The cuts and welts always painful, but not leaving their marks for too long. Every single one healed after he gets too close to the death’s door. To his only possible salvation, really. He doesn’t get to keep any damage that would kill him. Only the ones that discomfort him and pose no danger of killing him before he tells them what they want to know. 

If he remembers correctly she broke different bones in his body with hammers and stones around 20 times, pulled both his finger- and toe- nails out fully at least **twice.**  
Pierced his body more times that he can count. With various blades and instruments of torture of course.  
And every single time she would use her chaos to either force his body to regenerate, using up all of his storage of any tissue or fat not needed for him to live, slowly turning his body into a living skeleton. Or forcing the blood and skin, flesh and bone back into their original positions and stitching them together with literal magic. 

Then she would ask a different version of questions that summarised meant:

 _“Where the fuck is your disgusting mutant with the former princes of Cintra? Tell me now where are they hiding you stupid witcher bitch.”_

The sorceress clearly has some issues with everybody that even just is associated with witchers in any positive light.

Unfortunately no part of his body was left untouched. Yes, even his privates, but thankfully the sorceress seems disgusted with his male parts and rarely interacted with them. Thank Melitele for at least a bit of her mercy.

But none of that matter now when the bottle is thrusted into his mouth. Hitting his teeth painfully on the way in.  
He tries to stop the liquid from getting into his throat, but the delicate looking fingers block his nose and his body reacts for him.  
He takes a gulp hoping its air, but only takes the potion into his mouth.

And then another one. 

**And another.**

And another, until the bottle is empty.

While this is happening the woman praises him for letting the “medicine” in. Jaskier tastes death and evil on his tongue. It burns and hurts while slowly the thick concoction makes way into his stomach. It settles as if it was lead at the bottom of his gut. 

The sorceress moves in front of him and smirks.

-This isn’t the last you will see of me, my birdie.- and with that said very ominously she starts saying the incantation, casting the curse proper. Her eyes turn obsidian black and her face is split with a wicked grin. 

To Jaskier’s ears it sounds like **nothing** on this plane should be able to say it. He catches( or at least thinks he hears) a few words: curse (no surprises there), his something, dreams turned, until time of something, close eyes, and many other he can’t distinguish from her hellish speech.

And then when it seems it has ended his whole body feels like it’s **on fire.** The concoction that made his stomach its temporary home quickly gets absorbed and is spread out into his body through his veins, now becoming black lines dancing on his body. 

Suffering runs alongside them. 

The bard’s mind incapable of anything more than screaming in agony doesn’t notice the sudden and quite subtle changes to his mind. 

His throat gives up and he now knows he won’t sing for a long while. 

He thinks he hears his teeth click together and muscles twitch, convulsing on the table, his body accommodating the curses vessel as it now carves into him its new home. 

And as fast as it began, just as fast it seemingly ended. 

The witch isn’t in the room with him. 

He tries to organise the chaos and pain in his head to make sense of what just happened. 

And where is his captor? What the hell did her parting statement **mean?**

And then through the door bursts into the room **the white haired Witcher.** The once sturdy and iron-reinforced wooden door lays in splinters all over the dungeon’s room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my, who could have thought that was going to happen *eyes the tags*  
> Well, can't do anything now. ;)
> 
> As always creative criticisms welcome!
> 
> Have a nice morning/ afternoon/ night and thank you for reading!


	5. The first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier meets Geralt? after the mountain.  
> Yennefer has healing plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well hello!  
> Recently I thought about what I want the story etc. of this fic to be. And I came to a conclusion that if I'm to do this right I will need to set up more things now, instead of throwing them into the story out of the blue.  
> So the original 2 chapters of Jaskier's torture are being stretched with new details and scenes from outside.  
> Hope that all of it will be worth it ;)  
> Edited: 25.12.2020. (Happy late Hanukkah!)

Jaskier’s pain doused brain has to gather its wits just for another second or two to realize who he is seeing but Geralt _(what is he doing here?!)_ is already walking towards him.

\- Jaskier, fuck. what the hell did you do?! I told you if you ever need to run to come to my **safe place!** \- he basically shouts while cutting and crushing the many binding holding the now very confused bard with his... precious; use only for monsters _silver sword..._ The very same one the bard even after two decades of traveling together wasn't allowed to touch without a serious reason.

_huh weird..._

But the musician’s brain catches up to what is happening. And so after pulling his gag out of his mouth he hoarsely accuses:

\- Wha.. whe.. ho... what do you mean safe place? Like a safe house? – he barely is able to try to ask questions. 

Or at least he thinks he should be struggling at least a little bit to string words together? Especially after his last “performance”. 

_Curious...I don’t feel as if my throat was filled with broken glass… How long have I been left alone to heal this much?_

\- To the place I feel safe in, where do you **think** Jaskier? I must have told you about it.- The witcher accuses him with clearly visible emotion. Rage mostly, but with other things just under as if he can’t decide what to show. 

_Wait, since when does he show any emotion at all so freely?_

_Wait.. does Geralt even have a place where he would feel secure? Where he would stop basically half-sleeping and without his swords arm’s length away?...  
I don’t believe it a tiny bit. Even in the keep he says he keeps an ear out for his brothers and their “terrible tries at joking around” as he once told me in front of our campfire when I bugged him to tell about his brothers.  
He even was more stoic for the next three days, telling me how he should be more careful to “not let me know more about himself”.  
I mean fair, thanks to that the mage even with infinite amounts of torture couldn’t tear any too important information out of him.  
And his unwillingness to hurt Geralt indirectly certainly helped in the process of resisting her._

But in the present the bard, as expected is _very confused._ One moment he’s feeling the worst pain he felt in his entire life and now he’s sitting on top of the very table he was tortured in, without a trace of the witch A...An... Ani... **whatever!**

_Curses! I can’t even remember her name! What’s wrong with my head?_

And his once long ago muse and best friend is staring at him and waiting for his answer.  
Why he’s been abducted and why he hasn’t gone... _somewhere?_

He’s so confused. 

And why does his throat feel less horrible? It should be **burning and bleeding** every time he tries to speak.

\- What do you mean, **you oaf?** You’ve never told me anything about such a place. You didn’t even want to tell me for the first decade about where you _spend your winters,_ you b..- the bard tries to remind the other how secretive he was during the first few years of their relationship, but isn’t even allowed to insult him further. Geralt interrupts him just after he spoke the part about where he mentioned the keep.

\- Ohh really, do tell me: where do I **spend the winters,** _my birdie?_ – The witcher asks with a smirk. 

_Most unfortunately not with me… You didn’t even ever **invite me!** And what is this question right now!? As if I, your past companion of 22 years hasn’t been just freed by you from a torturous grasp of a witc.... _

_wait birdie?_

_Geralt never calls me **birdie.**_

\- Geralt are you all there in the head? You barge in and save me; thank you once again for that; but then yell at me for being abducted and now want me to remind you where you live for winter? For all the time I have known you, you sure don’t act like _yo-you..._ \- the realization slowly creeps and pounces at the bard, pushing air out of his lungs and stopping his rambling short. 

He jumps, painfully reminding him of the state he’s in, from the table and takes a step back. He lounges for the silver dagger the witch used to cut him a few times to test “if he was receptive to silver like **a monster;** maybe you have some interesting relatives bardling! _Who knows!”._

Of course it didn’t hurt him more or less. Honestly the rugged iron blade gave him more pain than the sharp silver one. Jaskier now holds the same blade high and demands the person in front of him for some answers: 

\- Who are you? A doppler? Some other beast? What do you want?-– he says with fake confidence. 

_My Geralt isn’t so emotional when it comes to me._  
He thinks bitterly. 

_He sent me away on that mountain while blaming me for all the wrong and misery in his life. When I only wanted to bring the opposite with me by his side. The real Geralt probably still thinks of me in that way strongly. Otherwise his poor copy wouldn’t be here trying to get me. The real Geralt would first make sure I’m okay before yelling at me. Or at least I hope he would. I don’t know anymore. I apparently wasn’t even his friend. Just a **nuisance.**_

\- What are you talking about, bard? I’ve travelled with you for over two decades. I’m **your friend,** aren’t I?- the imposter only digs his grave deeper with that statement.

\- Ok, now I know you’re no..- the bard isn’t even allowed to finish when three soldiers pour from the broken door and quickly throw themselves at the witcher. 

He fights poorly compared to all the times Jaskier has seen him fight. No advanced stances, no graceful swings of a blade. He doesn’t even manage to cut _one soldier_ down! 

**What is happening?** He acts as if surprised. 

But that’s impossible his enhanced senses should have warned him before they even got here. The “witcher” of course quickly loses his ground and the battle, and soon he has a sword sticking out of his back and with horrible gurgling sounds says his last words:  
\- why did you not listen...?- referring probably to the information Jaskier was supposed to have about where he wanted the bard to go. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a town called Brudge, in a manor looking worse for wear, 

sits a very tired sorceress who thinks life is so unfair. 

Yennefer is currently eating her last portion of magically enhancement soup. She used too many herbs to count for it to taste any good. 

She doesn’t **care.**

This is the best she can do in her situation. Sitting _(hiding)_ in a glamoured and warded (with last of her chaos) manor she has to recover from the shitshow that was Sodden. Barely a week ago.

Yes, she defeated the army and saved some of her friends. 

Well, more acquaintances maybe. Not everyone earned her trust to be called anything more. And yet none did she trust as much as she did Merigold. The medic of the sorceresses' was the only one that when she talked with she didn't want to pull out her hair.

But that doesn’t matter now. She’s beat and ready to recover her strength.

She gets up and checks everything once again.  
The fire is already nothing more than embers. Every charm and ward is strong and holding. Her chaos has already started flowing with the help of the soup.  
Her eyes are covered with a white bandage around her head that keeps the worst of stimulation away. Yennefer had to heal them herself after the battle and subsequent injury. As such they can be too sensitive to stand and her vision is still blurry. 

She’s no **Triss** after all. 

After making sure everything’s in the right place for the last time she traces the walls to guide her steps and goes into the bedroom. 

The bed isn’t too bad, but Yenna doesn’t have enough power to worry about such things that she can’t change. A few days on it won’t break her back after all.

She unbuttons her gown and slips into a simple and comfortable sleeping dress. Nobody here to impress or prove one’s worth or hide weaknesses at least.

She’s **alone.** Like most of her miserable life. 

The sorceress drinks the specially made potion to put her into a comalike state. 

Only somebody messing with her wards or her body physically will wake her up. 

And really, she needs her **"beauty sleep".**

On shaking legs she gets under the covers and lays to sleep. The potion is already working wonderfully.

But before she goes completely under she tugs at **the bond.**

It feels weaker, but still binds her with the Witcher. 

_Good, I haven’t lost him to Nilfgaard yet._

After she heals she thinks it will do them good to try and find and then protect the princess.  
Gods know Geralt will need her help with the child.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes... 
> 
> About the two first lines in Yen's part: yes you are meant to read it like dr.suss.  
> No he didn't possess me fully...
> 
> yet.
> 
> As profoundly mentioned basically every time: I'm writing this off the rails(no detailed plan), so some things I try to set up can change or I'll forget about sth. The details that I add, I add because I think they will fit and help me further along with the story. 
> 
> So for everything that will go wrong with continuity, logic or other:  
> I’m sorry...
> 
> Thank you for reading and  
> have a nice morning/ afternoon/ evening! :)


	6. The Silent/The Wolf meets the Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is once again in company of a different witcher and is still very confused.  
> (From their point in time) Geralt and Ciri has just arrived at Brudge. Ciri goes to the market and Geralt looks for Yen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,  
> I used my free time to create a more solid timeline and figured out more specific beats of the story.  
> Also edited the previous chapters a little bit, so if you want to see what has changed (not a lot) feel free to reread them. Thankfully I only had 5 to change instead of 50 ;)
> 
> Also Merry Chrismas and a happy new year!  
> Please enjoy!

Jaskier only can look with wide eyes and mouth agape. How the hell did they take down a seemingly healthy witcher?! And what the hell does Geralt mean? What place?

\- Because you didn... HMGh! HMmm...?- He tries to respond that he knows no such place, only to be stopped from speaking by a... gag? Didn’t Geralt just cut it? And the restraints broken a second ago now hold him down. Again?! What is happening? Was he hallucinating or dreaming? 

_No, it’s impossible._ He reasons.

The witch didn’t allow him even a nap without torture, unless he was recovering more than few minutes from his almost fatal wounds and was firmly unconscious. During these times he didn’t even know what she was doing, being in a healing trance of sorts and all that.

(But one can guess she would go outside and wait for him to recover while doing her duties as the leader of the troop of soldiers she was there to help. They were supposed to listen to people above and travel onward but the witch argued about her “work” with the bard. She came out on top and they listen to her. To prepare them to march to Vizima for an attack on the city is now only her objective when she is bored of what she’s been already doing. They were only waiting for the bard to spill and to kill him after. )

Probably. 

The door suddenly opens again, without shattering and this time a much quieter Geralt walks in. 

Well this one is talking just like the one he remembers. That is to say, doesn’t talk at all. He silently and quite elegantly glides to the table and uses a key Jaskier has seen previously only on the witch’s hip. When mocking him of course with “freedom’s so close you can grasp is, dearie. Oh wait you can’t. You’re chained to me!”. 

Gods Jaskier hates that monster masquerading as a witch. But since Geralt is in possession of said key he can be sure she has met a gruesome end by the hand of the witcher.

When the gag is once again cut and out of his mouth the bard more slowly than in his dream(?) raises up an more slowly and tests his vocal capabilities. 

\- Hello… G-Geralt, nice meeting you here. Thank you for once again saving my shit shovelling arse. If you’ll let me I’m going to get out of here, raid some dead soldiers and be on my merry way, opposite to yours. Sounds good? – he ends his quick monologue to find out if the White Wolf is still mad at him for the mountain incident. Since he is confident this is the real Geralt and still doesn’t know what their relationship is, or what feeling the monster hunter harbours for him.

To his surprise Geralt doesn’t even hum. Just looks at the now free bard and… blocks the door. 

_Huh…_

-Um, Geralt? You know if you want me to grant you _that wish_ you need to first let me go right?  
Are you even listening to me?- the bard questions, silently both cursing the witcher’s inability to say what is he thinking and thanking Melitele, for all in all Geralt looks quite healthy. Almost too healthy. One might think that a mercenary reliant on getting coin from LIVING people won’t be able to eat as much fats and rich enough meals to fill their frames so well as the specimen in front of him. Especially during a **bloody war.**

The witcher is still blocking the door. 

-Geralt please, penny for your thoughts? You know that since the mountain I didn’t have practice in interpreting your miniscule twitches and I lost the ability to understand you without words.- he tells the man to finish this conversation. This is getting kind of awkward. 

- _Hello? Earth to the witcher~_ \- sing-songing innocently he doesn’t notice the unnatural shifting of light and whooshes of air. 

-Why would I let you go away?- and **OKEY** this is not what Jaskier expected when being rescued, once again, only after 3 da… wait for how long was he tortured again? No windows or news of the outside world did some trick on his sense of time. 

But back to the marble statue standing in the doorframe. That is at the moment basically accusing him of trying to get out of his way, just like **HE** wanted!

-Because you told me to go, **don’t you remember?!** \- while accusing his ex-muse the bard swings his arms dramatically, although they seem very heavy to lift. 

-You spoke to me the most at once in the whole time I knew you if I remember correctly. Such beautiful metaphor too. I hoped my talents would rub on you but not in such way. YOU are the one who pushed me away and made me let go in the first place!- the bard ends his emotional speech with his finger poking the witcher’s chest. 

That full and healthy looking marvel of the world… Especially good looking since there’s supposedly a war out there. A war in which he’s supposed to be hunted and with a child in his care… _Running…_

_While on that topic where is she?_

Jaskier waits a few good minutes but the brute doesn’t even move a muscle. If Jaskier didn’t know better he would have thought that the witcher’s dead or a very realistic statue. After a few more heartbeats he can’t be bothered to wait for an apology, so he asks what is on his mind.

-Ok, fine witcher. I don’t care for your reasons or whatever. I do must ask you thou: where is the princess you are supposedly hiding from the emperor?- while asking Jaskier tries to imitate the witcher’s iconic eyebrow lift. 

-The cub of Cintra?- the said witcher asks as if he didn’t know what the bard was talking about.

- **YES, GERALT!** That one, remember? Your child of surprise, that you blamed _on me?!_ \- the bard is in such fury he doesn’t even think about the inconsistencies in the witcher’s behaviour. _Or what information he’s giving away._

-Interesting…- Geralt says and reaches for one of his sword. Jaskier doesn’t have time to notice which while he takes a hurried step back. Getting that feeling of déjà vu he doesn’t react fast enough to dodge the strike and his left lung is pierced through by one of Geralt’s swords.

And it’s not the one he was fantasising during their travels. Oh no, not _that one._ This one is made of metal that cruelly stops air from getting into his lungs. Blood starts to pool in his throat and mouth instead. With horror written on his sunken face he asks:  
-What… _*cough*_ the hell.. Geralt…- with disbelief for such action from his friend Jaskier can’t comprehend what is happening. 

Again, nothing makes sense anymore. 

The witcher just stands there as darkness envelopes the dying bard. No emotion on his stone-like face. The bard falls to the floor.

_Well at least I won’t be tortured anymore._

The bard thinks while seemingly dying and as his mind drifts slowly away those are his last “conscious” thoughts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Five days later from that point in time, on the edge of sunrise two cloaked figures on horseback ride into the city of Brudge.

Nobody knows who they are and do not care as those left alive after their surrender try to set up morning shop. 

Geralt cautiously dismounts and takes Roach’s rains in his hand. They first need to at least tie the horses from where they can quickly ride out of the settlement if the Nilfgaard left some soldiers to control the leftover population. He can’t risk getting caught because of a slow exit from a stable. 

Not with so many precious things and people close.  
(Oh sweet irony; how he doesn’t realise how true his statement is)

After finding a suitable place for their horses the witcher and princess reluctantly split to do their prediscussed tasks. 

Ciri goes to the waking market for most of their needed rations and then to find suitable clothing for travel. She will of course be cautious with their coin and to not be spotted. She’s going to finish her task successfully. 

People don’t even bat an eye at her, too focused on their griefs and tragedies. And spreading news and gossip naturally. She learns this way about the happenings around the city. The news disturb her **greatly,** and as such she tries to gather more information by looking for a notice board and eavesdropping on tired merchants and clients. 

While the former princess is hopping from one stall to the next Geralt focuses on his wish- induced bond with Yennefer. He worries for her after hearing the rumours from the battle on the Sodden hill. They say of a witch that singlehandedly almost destroyed the Nilfgaard’s forces. And he knows only one woman strong enough to pull that trick. (Ciri not included; she’s still his child)

His other proof is the feeling of their connection itself. It changes based on how alive, well or emotional they are. If Geralt or Yennefer are seriously hurt the connection weakens, getting ready to snap when one of them dies. And now it’s not too week but still not at full power.  
He follows it through many winding streets and stops to look at the building he feels it coming from. 

An old and ruined mansion with braced and barred door and windows. 

But he knows better thanks to his training and vibrating medallion on his neck. One trick most mages learn early and use often is hiding their bases in plain sight with illusion magic.

And he can feel it enveloping the building _wholly._

She must be in there and probably already has sensed him. 

He looks up from within his hood and observes his surroundings. 

Unless the vines on the house or the mud on the road are spies he can see that nobody is looking at what he’s doing. He takes a few steps on the small stone stairs to the blocked door and pushes.

His hand goes through the illusion and he can feel the real one opening. 

Once again checking what’s around him he ducks into the house and closes the doors behind him. 

The place is a little bit dirty, but it doesn’t make too much of a difference. He notes the used kitchen and weird smelling bowl laying on the table. The room he walked in is basically a common room with three doors on each wall not counting the one he just went through and an archway between the kitchen and the room, branching out to other parts of the mansion. The door to the kitchen is wide open, the one on the left is slightly crooked. He can both see and smell herbs, old books and magic through it. But the one on the right is closed fully. And even after an attempt was made to hide smells in this house he can smell her scent.

_Lilac and gooseberries._

That’s probably the room she usually sleeps in and is now. 

He takes a step towards it and smells the other parts of what makes up a person’s scent. Emotions hidden in hormones, sweat and other things. For every other witcher they don’t smell like anything. But Geralt isn’t normal even for the witchery standard. He can distinguish between them and label most with good enough accuracy.

He focuses on what he can smell and tries his luck at interpreting the emotional aroma coming from under the closed doors. Some part smells like hurt and exhaustion but the main ones are anger, disappointment and sorrow. 

And since Geralt had to learn that not everything he smells on people is so easy to interpret he doesn’t even try to figure out what could have made the sorceress feel that concoction of feelings. 

Before opening the door he knocks and waits with his hand on the knob. 

A sigh and very tired and week “Come in, witcher” is his answer. So he doesn’t hesitate and steps into the room.

A worn out, frail looking Yennefer in comfortable and white sleeping clothes under a few blankets and a bandage around her eyes welcomes him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you know that in canon of the books Yen's bird isn't a raven but a kestrel instead ?  
> They used ravens in the games etc. because they're more memorable and iconic and "RaVeN BlACk HaIr". 
> 
> Feel free to comment and please have a nice day/evening/night! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	7. Interlude: Where are the rest of the Wolves?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What are Lambert and Eskel up to during this chapters?  
> Well wonder no further!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> Did you miss me and my ~chaos~?  
> Here have this scene that was meant to be a part of a bigger chapter, but since it's a little more than detached I decided to post it now.
> 
> U know... before you peoples lose interest in the series... any further...
> 
> enjoy?...

Eskel is just walking into a village on a crossroad between Rinbe and Vizima. He’s been on a hunt for Geralt for a few weeks now. All thanks to a mysterious letter sent by a familiar sounding viscount or whatnot. He got it thanks to a smart bird that carefully landed then at the head of Scorpion during his travel, seemingly not scared of the scarred witcher and his black horse. 

The letter reads:

_Dear Eskel,_

_If you have obtained this letter that means the pigeon I have acquired is as smart as advertised by the seller and found you even in travel.  
Honestly I don’t know how the mages enchant them to be able to do that but I’m not complaining. _

_I’m writing because of your brother Geralt. I have some suspicions that he may get himself in danger after our untimely separation.  
Last I seen him we were returning from the very south of Blue Mountains from a failure of a hunt.  
I think he went to Cintra and since he’s not allowed there by royal order I fear he may get imprisoned or even worse. _

_So I ask that you go and help him come to his senses or if it’s too late help him escape. I wish I could but I fear I might cause more damage than help._

_Yours truly,  
Julian Alfred Pankratz, the Viscount de Lettenhove, Geralt’s dearest ~~friend~~ acquaintance_

After shaking off the shock of finding out that his brother had more _“acquaintances”_ than he knew about Eskel quickly changed his course and went in the pointed direction. 

He knew of the reason why Geralt was not allowed in Cintra and of that’s because of the same reason why he would suddenly go there. 

But that was when he got the letter and now it’s a completely different kind of chaos. 

Cintra’s gone and with it the princess and any trace of his brother. He’s still heading south but if he doesn’t find a mage in Vizima that can help him located Geralt he’ll have to postpone his search. Winter was slowly crawling upon them and he needed to get ready to be back in the keep before the first frost. With being away south this much it would take a lot of time to go back. And he needed to return with supplies. 

So yeah, not too fortunate circumstances. 

He opens the door of the tavern and almost all conversation ceases to exist. 

Before he can try to hide his scars and appearance or ask any of them any information about the Nilfgaard or his brother the barkeep sighs and says:  
-Another one? What is it with you, witchers? A special kind of hunt when war is fought? I’ve got no more rooms left, so if you want to stay you mutants have to share.- The man barely keeps his clear hatred out of his speech. 

At the mention of an another witcher Eskel scans the room once again. 

And then he spots **Lambert** with a grin holding out an ale in greeting from one of the more secluded and darkened corners. Eskel simply lifts one of his eyebrows first at his brat of a brother and then at the barkeep:  
-One ale for me, and don’t worry; there won’t be trouble.- he tries to reassure the man.

- _There better not be._ – the owner responds under his nose, tring to not let the witchers hear. They both do. Crystal clear. – Of course witcher.  
With that settled Eskel joins his brother.

-Let me guess why you’re here.- he says instead of a greeting

-Ohhh… be my guest~ - Lambert responds smugly and sips his beverage. 

-A letter from a viscount about Geralt going to Cintra. 

-Aye- Without any fanfare Lambert places the parchment on the table. His is a lot smaller and not as pristine as the one Eskel received. 

It reads:

_Hello Lambert,_

_Go to Cintra after your idiot of a brooding brother before he hurts himself further and help him.  
By force if only necessary. _

_~~His frie~~ Julian, viscount de Lettenhove_

Looking at the writing it is clear that this one was written under the influence of alcohol. 

Eskel smirks and pulls out his own, decorated and more proper letter. Lambert simply takes it, lifts his eyebrow and skims over the contents. 

-Well, whoever this _“Julian”_ is, Geralt must have told him about us at least a little bit for him to tailor the messages so well. – he said barely holding in his amusement and trying to hide his worry about both the stranger and Geralt. 

-Mhmm… So what was your plan?- Eskel asks trying to find out if it was beneficial at all to try and travel together. Since the war is going further north two wolf witchers might not be the best idea or sight to behold.

-Vizima, find mage, locate the idiot and get the fuck back to the keep.- Lambert as polite as ever echoes his brother’s plan.

-Ok, then we will do this…- they start to iron out the details of the plan to find Geralt and all other possibilities and then go to sleep. 

The next day they leave in the direction of Vizima in search of one **Triss Merigold.**  
Rumours say she’s helping the young mages and non-humans run away before the army gets there. They hope to catch her before she leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I mean I hope you don't hate me at least for posting so chaoticly...


	8. The furious, the witch(es) and the audacity of this bard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Geralt and Yenn try to talk things out.  
> Jaskier is faced with the third "Geralt" and is given a brief break and an explanation.  
> Antira catches up with a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hellllllllll-o !!  
> This isn't the best thing I have written and is probably very OOC, but I can't force myself to write/ imagine how Jaskier would react so I'm forcing the story forward instead. 
> 
> Updates? chaotic  
> Story? a mess  
> Characters? in pain  
> Life? torture  
> Hotel? Trivago!
> 
> Enjoy~~

-Hello Yennefer...- Geralt says nothing more as a greeting. 

He does not know with what he should start or if he should already be on his knees and begging for forgiveness. 

-Geralt, as stoic as ever I hear. What makes you wake me up from my beauty sleep in a manor I cloaked with charms **specifically** to get some peace?- she turns her head looking straight at him, even when he moves further and around the room. 

_What happened to her eyes?_ He thinks and closes the distance between himself and the bed. A very comfortable, but not luxurious bed. One that Yennefer would usually turn into a better one when sleeping anywhere and had energy to do it. 

This, combined with his previous clues tell him that she’s certainly the one who cast the biggest flames during the battle. And her injury and overall state is now more than well justified. Most who would even dare cast such enormous wall of flame would have **died** on the spot. Not Yennefer. She probably walked with a victorious grin far enough to a city and used last of her strength to start the healing process.

Never showing weakness to **anyone.**

So as to not tire her more he gets straight to the point, reading himself for one of his longer speeches in his almost century long life that Ciri had to help him compose when certain feeling got too complicated. She is no Jaskier, but her input was greatly appreciated by the witcher. 

-Yennefer I came here for many reasons. The one I think you are going to be most interested in is that I came to apologise to you. – he starts and notices that change in the mage’s expression. He continues without letting her say a word. He needs to tell it in one go. Otherwise he won’t be able to say any of it partially knowing her reaction. 

-I’m sorry for my behaviour on the dragon hunt. I still don’t think I made a mistake by wishing you to live, but I did realise I should have worded it better, especially when dealing with a djinn. As a witcher I should have known better. I shouldn’t have taken your choice about that away. Forgive me... 

You must understand that I didn’t mean most of what I said that day on the mountain. I still can’t figure out why I did what I did but it wasn’t right of me. And I know that you still have feeling for me, and that they aren’t your own. They were probably mostly if not fully created by the djinn. And so I’m giving you back most of the choice on what our relationship will be. But I must tell you that I already decided for myself partially and because of that we can’t go back to being romantic partners. It was- is not **healthy** for us to be together as love- as something we weren’t meant to, but I want- I ask you to tell me what is your stance on this, please...- he stops his apology here not knowing if it’s enough. 

The sorceress doesn’t react instantly, but her scent changes. It’s softer when she answers. 

-Well how long have you been creating such masterful speech? Did your bard help you?- not being able to see the witcher’s reaction Yennefer doubles down on her defensive note.

-Where is he? I need to review his work, **three words or less** as he likes to say, hmmm…? Where is your bard Geralt?- after finally trying to once again use her chaos to visualise her surroundings she doesn’t feel anybody else but the white haired man and is a little bit startled.

_I guess the bard leant some tack and allowed Geralt to speak on his own this time._

-~~~~-

The bard drifts in pleasant void.  
There’s nothing to hurt him.  
Only the darkness.  
And _something_ is there with him.  
**Watching.**

_Observing his mind._

Reaching out to him and…

Then Jaskier wakes with a jump, as if from a terrrible nightmare and is stopped instantly by his restraints.

_What the hell?! Why do I feel so fucking terrified? I’ve been tortured enough to have at least some peace in sleep, right?  
I can’t even remember them clearly… What’s the point brain? To bring me even more misery? Yes, thank you. I didn’t have enough from that sadistic bitch._

Jaskier doesn’t have the luxury of arguing with his brain any longer because the door Is thrown open and an angry; no furious Geralt stomps into the chamber. This can only end badly for the bard.

-What the **fuck** are you doing here?! – the man bellows at the bound bard. After few tense heartbeats he steps closer and practically spits into the musician’s face.

-I asked you a question! Why do I have to see your shit-shovelling face again?!

Jaskier confused and alarmed tries to wriggle out of the man’s angered expression and whimpers when the restraints bite further into his limbs. He usually wouldn’t try to get away from Geralt, even with the potions in the witcher’s system, but this anger didn’t seem like it was leaving the man with any shred of intelligence left. 

The next moment Jaskier is being held up by his neck in the air. The chains clatter onto the floor. Somehow Geralt took care of them while in his furious stupor. 

-Ger.. * wheeze* pleees…. I can’t bre-athe… - the musician pushed the words out of his constricted throat. 

- **TELL ME!** \- the witcher throws him into a corner.

Coughing Jaskier uses the wall as a crouch and rises to his feet. He manoeuvres in a way so the table is between them before he answers. 

\- It’s not my fault I was kidnapped and you saved me. Again...

It’s not the greatest response but what can you do. Being tortured for so long and after waking to such a scene does decrease one’s ability to think clearly. 

Something bad, really bad to have strung the witcher so tight, like a lute string barely holding on and on the edge of snaping.

-Please Geralt, what happened ?

-What happened? You tell me! I thought I was only destroying a Nilfgaardian soldier’s camp not saving a **worthless** bard!- the witcher stomps around the room, not bothered about anything else but the bard and his rage.

\- Destroying? Wh- why- what?! Geralt? You wouldn’t kill without a good reason…- Jaskier says thinking about all the enemies Geralt chose to spare simply because he could avoid bloodshed. Anything to not let people have any examples of him being a “butcher” is the reason why, in his opinion. He’s still keeping a hand on the cold bricks of the dungeon for balance. But they don’t seem cold… at all.

\- Well with the war and everything one does change how they act, do they not?- in the meantime the man answers sarcastically.

-Umm… yeah, yeah it does… Geralt, dear heart can you feel the wall? – Engrossed in the weird sensation of both touching and not feeling the stone Jaskier returns to his old way of talking to Geralt. It of course doesn’t escape the other entities in the “room”.

- **“Dear heart”**?! When the fuck did I allow you to talk to me like that?!- he bellows as if he didn’t spend at least 20 years hearing it almost every time they were traveling together. 

\- Since the first real heart to heart we had? Don’t you remember?- still focused on the wall Jaskier answers truthfully and without any malice toward the man. 

Even if just a few seconds ago he was screaming at him. There’s no need to be angry at him. That’s how Geralt sometimes is and Jaskier is never cross with him for too long anyway. 

\- Why would I need to remember **you? **\- slightly colder and like grovel the witcher asks the question****

********

_Yeah, why would you remember your companion of 22 years, the bard that changed publics opinion about you and tried to help in the most horrible moments in your life? Yeah, no big deal at all._

********

_This wall is not right. Maybe the mage did something to it…_

********

While ignoring the man Jaskier doesn’t see his hand once again coming to his throat. He feels it only after he is manhandled to look the witcher in the golden and slit cat eyes, taking his hand of the stone with the same movement. 

********

-STOP GROPING THE WALL AND FOCUS ON ME!- Geralt howls mere inches away from the bard’s face. 

********

\- All right, all right no need to destroy my hearing and your voice too! Geez… What was your question?- Jaskier tries to step away but is remined that his neck is being held and ready to be wrung if Geralt decides that it is what he wants to do.

********

_Like in the nightmare with his sword… Ohhh… I remember that now; thanks brain!_  
-FOR FUCK’S SAKE JASKIER!! When did our relationship turn romantic for you to call me **that?!** \- Geralt asks such a not-Geralt question, but Jakiser is too tired and broken to care, while his mind is focused on the stone behind him and the nightmare that woke him up. 

********

So he let’s something he never thought pass his lips:

********

-Well you should remember at least that it didn’t, not without trying from my side but… you know; you never even acknowledged my feeling, and all that.- and as Jaskier ends the sentence the realization of what he just admitted makes his eyes almost pop out of his skull and takes his focus away from the wall for a second.

********

-Wait, on the other hand **forget** that! We never were partners, there were no feelings. Just like the presents, remember? No feeling about them either! Please stop staring at me…- Jaskier doesn’t even have the choice to look away as that too smart witchery brain realises what he just said.

********

-You love… me? me?....- Geralt says it as if the mere idea of love was foreign to him. 

********

Especially one directed at him.  
The greatest mystery of the universe. 

********

His grasp on Jaskier’s throat loosens a bit. Anger seeps out of his body and is replaced by shock and disbelief. But not for the reasons Jaskier suspects. 

********

\- Well I did try to make my devotion more obvious on that **mountain,** but you, of course, preferred to run after that witch: Yennefer. Honestly I don’t know what you see in her except the obvious situation in your magical case… - Tring to clear the air between them Jaskier tries to explain his feeling still trying to figure out why he doesn’t feel the wall behind him as he should. 

********

Maybe he is more injured than he thought. At the same time his heart is beating crazy in his chest. Could this be the time his feeling are known and judged? 

********

_There’s no better time as being rescued._

********

He thinks with hope and longing and a little bit of melancholy.  
Or is it despair. 

********

\- This is just getting more and more interesting, birdie… - Geralt’s lips turn into a grin too similar for the bard to not feel at least a little bit alarmed. Believing this “Geralt” to be real (and being tricked once again) such expression sends all kinds of wrong signals saying that what he’s seeing is very wrong.

********

The name used for his person, the now partially remembered nightmare, the furious and too chaotic Geralt, the not-a-wall wall… 

********

This is too much for his brain. 

********

One second he’s being tortured and the second he is trying to repair his and witcher’s relationship while just being woken up from a horrible nightmare in which the very same person stabbed him. 

********

Who wouldn’t start losing their sanity in his place?

********

The next heartbeat, even before he can try to panic outside of his mind the world is engulfed in darkness for a split second and then he blinks his eyes and can once again see the celling of the dungeon.

********

From the laying position on the table… With body feeling just like before he had to drink the witche’s potion and AGAIN strapped to the table.

********

At the same time the recollection about the three weird visions? hallucinations? comes back into his mind.

********

-My, my, my… I haven’t thought that a weak bardling such as you was capable of resisting the curse for more than one scenario, but resisting **three?** My, you are an overachiever, birdie!- The sorceress is standing just as he last saw her now near the door and looking a little bit worse for wear.

********

Jaskier feels kind of proud that he was capable of noticing that something was wrong so strongly that the illusions had to fade away and that he forced the curse to try three times.  
Giving his best smirk to the mage he is reminded fully of the state of his body. And isn’t it nice? 

********

While under the effects of the many layered spells of the curse he couldn’t feel the pain radiating from every part of it. There are now no regions on or in where he doesn’t feel some kind of pain.

********

All the courtesy of the vile potion he was made to drink he can guess. 

********

-Well I had my fun, for now. And seriously bard? Falling in love with that mutant? When people learn of your disgusting tastes in partners they ought to execute you for **bestiality!** Ahh ahahaha! – the witch almost doubles over from her laughter. 

********

Jaskier’s blood runs cold at the hag’s admission that she was the one controlling the Geralt puppet and because he, like a fool he was called so many times gave her precious information only because she looked or acted like his belo- muse from once upon a time.  
He must not let Geralt’s other secrets out of his mouth unless he is so sure that the witcher in question is real. And that he can make him say or guess the information by himself. 

********

Yes, that’s a good plan. Especially since he has the knowledge that he’s under a course.

********

-Ohhh… whew…! That was a good one! Now, I have an important guest, but I still need the information where your crush is hiding. So I’ll leave you alone with the curse for a bit until you crack enough to give me what I want. See you soon bardling!- the witch taunts the bard and turns to walk out of the chamber. But she stops with her hand on the door and turns her head with an evil smirk.

********

-Ohh! And one more thing I can tell! You know what’s the best part?- Antira asks and looks with glee at the bard’s lifted eyebrow saying: “Oh yeah, do tell bitch”.

********

-I made a few adjustments and not only you won’t remember that you are cursed or previous visions while you’re under, but also they will evolve without needing my input! Just all the secrets you will tell it yourself! Isn’t this curse beautiful? Well bye for now, birdie~- and she finally leaves the room and Jaskier has a minute or two of panicking and trying to come up with a plan before the void swallows him again and the cycle of nightmares can continue and evolve. While at the same time something unexpected evolves with his suffering alongside the visions, unknown even to the witch who cast this awful spell. 

****

********

-~~~~~~-

********

****  
**  
**

The witch resurfaces to the outside world and is met with the sight of her soldier reading for departure and swapping stories with the others that just arrived. She herself goes over to her enchanted tent and sees her old friend and colleague: Amara von Belhaven. She’s above her in the military and court rankings but they stayed friends despite the circumstance. They chose to share part of their names after all. 

********

The fearsome duo of Antira von Belhaven and Amara von Belhaven are the two most bloodthirsty of the court of Nilfgaard. Although you wouldn’t know it by looking at the former. In contrast to her “sister” Amara wears her characteristic dull and emerald-like dress slightly ruffed on the edges. Her brunet hair nicely brings out her eyes that now notice the other sorceress coming into the tent and sparkle with excitement. 

********

-You’re back, so I can presume the bard is nicely taken care of? – Amara asks with such a soft voice one might try and use it as a pillow.

********

-Ohh… and you don’t know half of it sister.- Antira answers fully knowing the real sorceress in green and starts to tell her about what she leant and what they are going to do.  
After ending their more “serious” discussion about their two troops and the war they catch up on the court drama and what they want to do with the bard when he finally breaks and is of no use for them. 

********

-Well you did tell me he looks good while being tortured, so why not turn him into a living show? We do need more entertainment on this long and boring journey. Honestly If you didn’t stop to torture the lad I would march with my boys all the way to Vizima without anything interesting happening. – Amara says describing her idea of what to do later.

********

-Honestly, not a bad idea… Let him be a show of power for the locals to fear Nilfgaard. Clever sister, very clever! – She answers and raises her goblet of red wine to the sorceress laying on the opposite loveseat. 

********

They do not even spare a thought that the bard might not react as they planned.  
Because a few days later one will be traveling on to their intended destination while the other will be **dead.**

********

Killed by the bard that at the moment is being plagued by a curse, a dark entity, and his own confused and cracking mind.

********

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new witche's name comes from the plant named Amaranthus. The name has some meaning but is not too relevant yet.  
> Also sorry for having the story split into two timelines, but worry not: they will merge soon...- ish
> 
> Thanks for reading and have a nice whatever!
> 
> Bye~~ ;)


	9. Meeting the child and the threat; The broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yen and Geralt go to meet up with Ciri. She has some gossip for them.
> 
> Jaskier has the worst day of his life~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi~~
> 
> *yeets the chapter at u*
> 
> Written/ finished from my previous notes in like 3 hours, probably has many mistakes and is so OOC, but I do not care anymore!
> 
> Enjoy!!~~

Geralt’s first reaction is to scoff at her comment but he quickly lowers his protective walls and sighs instead. Yen’s still a friend at least it seems. But she doesn’t know what she’s doing with her comments. About the metaphorical sword she sinks into his heart and **twists** with her response. 

-He’s not with me. I had a similar… **conversation** on the mountain with him and after that…- the witcher can’t stand the sorceress’s expression, even with the blindfold around her head and looks to the ground between his legs.

\- I haven’t heard from him since.

_Ohh.. That’s unexpected…_

-That’s also the other reason why we sough you out.- he final admits after a heartbeat.

\- Wait “we”? Than who are you traveling with? – the mage seemingly ignores Geralt’s explanation. 

-Yes, **we.** Ciri is with me and we are traveling somewhere to lay low for a while.

Yennefer looks shocked at the information and takes a second to steady her reaction. 

-Huh… And I’m supposed to go and hide with you and the princess? _Just like that?_ \- she is honestly surprised with how different Geralt’s approach seems to be now. 

Maybe that’s because they are really talking, not shouting or tearing clothes off each other. Maybe it’s the presence of the princess in his care. Or **lack of** somebody. But she won’t let him drag her wherever he likes just because she’s weak at the moment and would benefit from having a friend close by. _Or a more stable residence._

-I’m not in shape to teleport us anywhere. Honestly I barely had enough energy to save **myself.** You have any horses with you, or were you dragging the princess and having her walk _on foot?_

More confident in this conversation and his plans Geralt tries to reassure her. 

\- I can see that. And no, we’ve been traveling on horseback for a time and you can ride with Ciri or we’ll find another abandoned horse. With the war going on it won’t be too difficult. But even now if you can travel we first have to try to cast a location spell on Jaskier. **Only** after we find him we travel north. That his my plan anyway. 

-Ah… so you really have no idea where the bard has run off to?- asking with clear curiosity Yennefer wants to figure out who they can also take with them. _A medic sorceress perhaps._

-Hmm..- is the only answer she gets on the subject. Neither a positive or negative answer to her, but to a certain bard it would clearly classify as the _“No, I do not know that”_ type of hum. 

-Alright Geralt.- the sorceress deflates a little.- Honestly every time you talk sincerely for more than few minutes you flip a person’s world on it’s head, don’t you? I’ll need more time to think about, well **us** and the whole Nilfgaard situation, but I am willing to go with you somewhere I would be safe. Are you opposed to telling me where we are going? Oh, and can we take someone other then your bard with us?- feeling that their conversation is ending Yennefer gets up and goes around the room looking through her packs and enchanted boxes and getting ready for the day. 

-If we happen upon somebody I can _trust with our secrets_ than yes. But before we go to the keep we need to at least make sure Jaskier is safe. Nilfgaard will probably try to use him to get to me.  
And we need to find if there are any soldiers nearby. If the town is relatively safe I see no problem in letting ourselves to rest for a few days.

Trying to digest all of the information the mage silently goes around the room changing into her classical black dress. Seeing her struggle with some of the ties on her back Geralt offers his help. Reluctantly she accepts and they go out to fetch the horses and Ciri. There’s a small stable around the manor and it can fit the two horses properly without being a death-trap if they are to be discovered.  
With their cloaks and hoods nobody even bats an eye at the pair or at least get a look at their identities. Yennefer’s enchantment to make people not notice her cast onto the item certainly helps in that regard. 

When they reach Roach and the other stallion Ciri is already there and looks quite agitated and _twitchy._ When they reach her she doesn’t ask about the woman with a bandage around her eyes but says something she deems very important. Even more important than introducing herself and all that _first meetings nonsense._

-I’ve heard some **gossip** in the market. – she hurriedly whispers.

-What gossip _child?_ It must be good to make you forget your manners, princess. – Yennefer has already put her “powerful and regal sorceress” persona on, even to face the little Ciri.

-I know who you are **Lady Yennefer** and I’m sorry to be blunt, but I’ve heard about _Nilfgaard’s soldiers_ near here. 

Geralt visibly stiffens where he’s standing next to Roach, ready to take her to the manor.

-Hm...?- he hums as a question hoping it’s nothing they need to worry about.

-There was a small group of them situated in an abandoned bastion just out of town.

- _Was?_ \- the sorceress pushes the topic along before Geralt can have a heart attack with all those dramatic pauses in the princesses’ explanation. Not that witchers can get them, but with what has been happening for a while and the situation she isn’t so sure.

-They have been cursed yesterday and their mage was killed.- Ciri tells them with slight fear and worry in her voice. 

Her guardians do not look amused or happy at the information at all. Even if it means that they are safe and do not need to worry about being spotted for a few days. Putting a curse on a group of people and killing a mage in one hit takes a lot of power after all. 

And with great power comes **great danger.**

-~~~~-

Jaskier is pulled into the void time and time again.

Every illusion only confuses him further and tries to scramble his mind.

Its goal is to **break him** and get information about his precious witcher after all.

There is a pattern one might find if they weren’t forgetting the previous visions every time they wake like the musician. 

The bard will wake restrained in the dungeon and have a fluctuating amount of time to think for himself about his situation. When he gets too close to figuring something out or stops his train of thought or thinks about Geralt the man himself will appear in the room. 

Sometimes destructively, sometimes sneakily, usually alone, with various emotions or lack thereof and reactions to seeing the bard. 

The main scenarios in combination are that Geralt is:  
-angry  
-silent  
-confused 

Or since the curse knows about the bard’s feelings  
-flirtatious 

All of the situations always at some level confuse the bard and he finds some inaccuracy with the witcher’s actions or speech, but it is becoming rarer as this goes on since the entity is learning from it’s previous attempts. He falls into his mind’s creations.

He unknowingly has conversations with himself and newly born curse that has one goal. Make him spill **the witcher’s secrets** by using living nightmares as his method. 

They usually talk and Jaskier unknowingly gives a slither of information away and both trusts and thinks that the Geralt in front of him is real. 

The illusions disappear when either Jaskier gets too confused to let anything slip; has suspicions et cetera or when the curse doesn’t have more things to show the bard and the illusions start to break apart. Like with the wrong sensation of stone. The curse learns from the bard and some of his most surface memories about how the world should feel and perfects its creations. 

Thanks to that the illusions get better and better with each iteration and fool the bard further. He even gets to _“leave”_ the dungeon and see the outside. Sometimes it’s a peaceful ruin of a bastion, sometimes a **bloody battleground** left after the witcher supposedly fought to get to Jaskier. 

But he doesn’t get to go very far because it always end violently and **the horrors** of the scenes wake him into another nightmare. 

Geralt being killed, or killing Jaskier are usually the main scene endings. 

Of course it’s not always just the two of them.

Sometimes _Yennefer_ joins the rescue and angers the musician or degrades him. Other times _Antira_ makes a visit and is the one to first torture the witcher and kill him easily after. 

And through the course of the day unknown to the bard the curse learns. **A lot.**

And not only about the witcher’s whereabouts, _no._

It learns almost everything about what makes the bard tick. His ambitions, his past, hopes, and fears.

And it uses them _masterfully._

Which ends with a scene that transpires as such.

Jaskier is standing with Geralt just outside of the ruins. 

Jaskier had a little too much time to gather his thoughts at the beginning and is suspecting that not all is what it seems, but instead of ending the vision like the curse was made to do it broke its conditioning and had decided to _experiment._

This time Geralt was almost the same as the bard remembers him being. He’s just a tiny bit more… _kind?_ towards him. He doesn’t mention their last goodbyes but doesn’t look as if he forgot about it either. He patched Jaskier up and is leading him to a camp he made and is supposedly also bringing him to Ciri. But just like in all other cases since Jaskier only knows the little girl her form is blurry and vague. She’s supposed to be older but neither he, the curse or the witch seen how the current princess _looks._

Jaskier feels safe even if he’s a little suspicious. He’s tired and just wants to go back to being the White Wolf’s traveling companion. 

It looks like a few weeks have passed since the last time he was conscious since the trees have some brown and gold colouring on their leaves.

Every single factor and previous illusions combine into the event. 

Each vision has slowly been breaking the bard down.

The flirting and “truthful” emotional conversations making him trust the witcher the most and only strengthening his love. 

And breaking down his boundaries when it comes to seeking comfort from the white haired man. 

Each time the curse has been getting more and more access to his memories and improving its mind infecting abilities. If it makes the bard think about a topic with its illusions it can simply prod his brain for more information. 

As mentioned **the entity** born from the curse has been evolving with the bards suffering. 

Each _grotesque_ ending and scenes have corrupted and cracked the fragile poetic mind. 

Jaskier just wants some safety and warmth, _is that so much to ask for?_

That’s why after a few seconds of silently walking on the dirt road through the forest he asks his beloved. Even though he didn’t yet confess how he truly feels. 

-Umm… Geralt, dear heart, I do not fail to notice that the seasons are changing a little too **frosty** for my liking. And I though since everything that happened to me; and you and Ciri of course, would you be angry if _I asked to winter with you and your brothers...?_

This of course gets the “witcher’s” attention.

-You don’t want to winter in **Oxenfurt?** \- he asks gruffly the bard and looks at him as if he grew a second head.

-Yeah… I don’t feel safe enough to be on my own for the season. _Is that possibly a yes?_ \- he can’t keep hope from seeping into his wavering voice. His throat and body now also hurt, just like in reality after the curse figured out that it was one of the most damning evidence for its visions to be considered fake. 

-You do know where I winter, right?- After getting some scraps of description from the bard the curse was able to speculate that it wasn’t the most comfortable place.

-Yeah, yeah. You still sit through the winter in your cold and **broken keep north** if I remember.- Jaskier tries to bring some nonchalance to the conversation while feeling his anxiety spike. His head feels as if someone was trying to drill into it. 

-You even remember where it is, lark?- Even the correct nicknames were learnt by the curse. 

-It’s in **Keadwen, Blue Mountains** , or somewhere else if you li…!- the bard is interrupted when the presence he always felt during his nightmares suddenly increased and started to crush him.  
The world spins and his head is splitting. 

_What is happening to me? Why does it hurt so much…? What…._

_Keep of the Witcher’s  
White Wolf’s hiding place  
**His destination for winter**_

_**ITS LOCATION** _

_**REMEMBER!** _

A dark voice screams in his mind.

Jaskier is forced to remember everything he knows about **Kear Morhen.** From the first time Geralt mentioned it on their travels to the more detailed descriptions told by a campfire. 

Suddenly everything has disappeared. The curse now finished with it’s goal returns the bard’s memories of his torture at the same time. 

Jaskier tries to **scream** from the pain of seeing and reliving them at the same time with such intensity. 

But he can’t. In the void **no one hears you scream.**  
He now knows what he has done.

He betrayed **Geralt**  
He told where he is going to hide with Ciri…

 **HE** betrayed Geralt…

He **BETRAYED GERALT!**

**HE BETRAYED HIS BELOVED WHITE WOLF!!!**

_He put him and the princess in danger…_

_And every other witcher still living there…_

_What has he **done** …?_

And that realisation and his guilt is his **breaking point.**

The lark is siting in its gilded cage **defeated and broken.**  
No cheerful song shall leave its lungs until… **never**. Probably. 

**The Void** looks at him with interest and gathers all it has learnt to tell its mistress about.  
But if it is correct, it’s not its last time with the bard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh...
> 
> Don't kill me :)
> 
> I just like to watch Jaskier squirm and make him more badass as a result to bring him to the power level of the rest of the cast ;)
> 
> It's going to be a-okey!
> 
> Bye~~


	10. Spill the tea!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Antira finally gets what she wanted~~
> 
> Ciri shares more info with her guardians and plans are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *LA YEET~~*
> 
> Catch my beauties~!
> 
> Hello!  
> how are you doing? 
> 
> I've decided to stop fussing over creating a magnum opus out of this work so the overall quality of individual chapters might have taken a plunge, but hay! What can you do without too much talent or time on your hands, but have already started a project that just keeps popping its head into your saying: and this is what's gonna happen next!
> 
> Well whatever,  
> I hope you enjoy!~~ ;)

The sorceress after being notified of the bard’s slip up went to his torture chamber and now looks at him from the door with **glee.**

Her friend Amara is standing next to her with a neutral if not happy expression. 

Both move closer and Antira raises her hands to connect her mind with the bard’s to siphon information out of him through the curse.

-So what did you find out?- while asking the question the other sorceress circles the thrashing bard. His expression of complete anguish and defiance, still present after all he went through was a beautiful sight to her.

-I have the place **the mutant** is taking the princess. – With a wicked smile Antira is pulling the most important information out of the bard. This process is what makes him hurt at the moment. 

Her sister gasps with the shared news.

-Should we inform the other troop leaders? We don’t want to give **too much** information right?- Amara tries to influence her sister and force her to make a mistake with their mentor. 

-No, no _my foolish sister._ We need to share the news so no one can take credit for **my work.** And if I wait to share we could lose an opportunity to capture the princess.- Fully knowing what her sister tries to do Antira quickly disapproves of her notion.

-Ahh.. yes, you always were _the smarter one._ Shall I and my men take off to Vizima then? If I’m really luck I could trip upon the mutant. So tell me where is he heading?- Hoping to get a little further than her peers she hopes to get the information as fast as possible. 

-Well I’ll be sending it out in just a minute so no reason to keep it to myself. Well here it is…- Antira has finished pulling the information out of her little experiment. The bard is laying boneless and barely makes a sound. He quite honestly looks dead, but her superior senses hear his slow heartbeat and his uneven breathing.

\- The mutant is going… north. He’s heading to **Keadwen.** To the almost top of the Blue Mountains. He usually stops for resources in **Ard Carraigh,** but that’s only when he would split from the bard. If what he told the little birdie is true he goes further until he’s near **Aedd Gynvael** and then there’s a primitively hidden track through the mountains. He has to get there before true winter sets in otherwise he is blocked from getting into the keep. There are supposedly other mutants wintering with him.- She ends her description suspecting her sister doesn’t need every detail about the place.

-So wait, after all that time and their rumoured **“friendship”** the bard has never wintered with his wolf?- now genuinely curious and bored with the war Amara hopes for some interesting tale. The rumours did say that the bard and mutant had more intimate relationship than they showed. Especially fuelled from peoples’ reports about how the musician was acting around the witcher. Almost everyone on the continent heard about the butcher and his companion; the famous bard from Oxenfurt that _“tamed” the beast._

-And I would gladly tell you more, but we don’t have the luxury of time. You need to go catch up with the rest towards Vizima. What I can tell with only the bare minimum pulled out of him is that they had an argument barely months before we had our attack on Cintra. It looks like the **“white wolf”** is as of a loner as the animal he is described as. – she doesn’t even try to hide her disgust while using the witcher’s moniker.

-Yes, yes of course. I won’t be staying an hour longer in such case. Are you still going to make _an example_ out of him? - Amara knows when to step down and get out of the way of someone with a personal vendetta. Pity. She really hoped she could at least see the bard’s final moments. While cradling his head in her arms she can’t fail but notice that without his wounds he would be quite a nice catch. 

-Well no other use for him now. The only thing that can break the curse as strong as Lady Fringilla’s combined with my power is love as strong as the one considered by the stupid farmers as **“true love”.** No normal and mortal man can feel as deeply unfortunately. Even if he is a poet. Useless bunch of pricks they are. _Literally._ – the sorceress can’t help but make her distaste of men known.

-Ohh… that is kind of sad… What will you do to him now?- being done with her sister’s hatred towards such useful servants and tools Amara brushes the bard’s hair away from his face and watches as he whimpers pitifully in his unconscious state. Oh how **wonderful** he must have looked thrashing in real pain…

-Ehh… I think leaving him as a chained scarecrow for crows to feed off in front of the nearest city gates will do. I don’t want to waste my time with him not that he’s useless. – saying such thing so casually Antira motions her sister to stop with her grooming and to get out of the room. 

While she does as instructed the torturer stays and starts to bring the bard back into the land of the living.

He weakly opens his eyes and immediately tears pour out of them. He visibly shakes due to **his emotional, mental AND physical state.**

Certain that the bard won’t try to even attempt to escape the sorceress loosens; not removes she’s not that overconfident or stupid; his restraints so he can look at her with all his “fury”. That is he’s barley holding his head above the table and giving her the stink eye. 

-Well now that I know what I wanted there’s no further use for you _my birdie,_ let’s get you set up for your last _performance.~_ – Antira takes out the gag hoping the bard will completely ruin his voice by trying to talk back at her, or scream his frustrations.

Jaskier remembering in what state he is in doesn’t even try to lift his head or look at the monster in the room any longer. 

The only thing he can think about is: _“I betrayed him…”,_ over and **over** again. 

All illusions and scenes the curse forced upon him cost his mind too much. 

Over the course of the day, that felt **like months** in the bard’s head, Jaskier whenever he remember why he was being tortured promised himself something for just a second or two before being forced to forget all over again. 

He would not tell them **anything important** about Geralt. Not only for his love’s safety, but also Ciri’s. And now after doing just that and being powerless to stop the witch his mind has given up on keeping his sanity and being together.

The spiral of guilt and trauma turns and turns like a broken waterwheel, only hypnotising him further. He doesn’t care about his body or wellbeing now. How can he? He did something **unforgivable…** to the only person he tried to stay close to… His one constant love alongside music. 

His muse that powered his passion. The brooding witcher that was considered a butcher who turned out to be the most precious, honourable and simply **best person** he has ever met. 

Without Geralt singing in taverns to keep himself fed was hard. And now? After singlehandedly being responsible for his secrets; that he was supposed to keep to his grave; being spilled? 

_How can I dare to sing anything now?_

_No music is left in my being._

_No rhythm and no motivation._

_No inspiration._

_No muse…_

_Not any more…_

_It stabbed me and I him on the mountain and he died in my mind today._

_All thanks to me._

_A powerless and foolish Jaskier._

_There’s no passion or life in me left._

_A husk of a bard._

_A husk of a **viscount.**_

_A husk of a man..._

_A cured and broken creature, now laying useless on a table in some dungeon._

_Who can live with this?_

_I just want this to **end.. .**_

Jaskier being locked inside his mind doesn’t register his body being moved aboveground. 

Soldiers that are moving out to travel with Amara look in _horror_ at the scars and wounds displayed on the bard’s skin. While the sorceress herself barley glances for a minute with a hand hiding her delighted expression. They leave the camp as to not waste any more time.

Antira levitates Jaskier’s body further towards her tent, but not without making sure all of her soldiers get a look at him also. One of which, Angus with mouth agape stares and silently prays for the bard. He would have done something if this was a mere mortal as his torturer, but he isn’t strong or stupid enough to try and fight a sorceress. 

The bard levitates as if he was a long forgotten messiah of one of the gods worshipped on the continent. His once beautiful and colourful clothing barley hangs on his skeletal frame, dyed crimson and black from blood and dirt. 

It’s cut and in slithers and hides no bruise or wound nor scar on his body. If one were to look into his eyes on his turned to the side face they would find them open, but void of emotion or life.   
Finally thinking her tools had seen enough Antira takes her plaything into her tent.

She shackles him on his shacking legs to a wooden pilar in the middle that supports the whole structure. With his face pointed to the exit she hopes it makes him realise how close his escape is. 

But Jaskier doesn’t plan on running.

He gave up. And that is **that.**

****

-~~~~-

****

**  
**

-Who would do this; any rogue mages in Brudge?- Geralt directs the question to Yennefer, but before she can answer Ciri interrupts.

-They say that some horrid **monster** did it. The mayor put up a contract to break the curse or kill the creature for anyone interested. I went and got it already. Here, we might even get some coin before we take care of this and travel without problems.- she finishes with getting a piece of parchment from one of her bags strapped to the stallion. 

Geralt quickly reads through it and frowns. He never heard of such creature before. Non match the more than usual detailed description of their abilities. _“creepy hummings and forcing nature to sing in rhythm while their victims scream”_ is not a usual set of skills a normal monster would have. 

Not succubus, sirens or any other type of known to him humanoids use song to torture or curse. Most songs when used by monsters are to lure and disarm not actively attack. Either he’s forgetting something from the books Vesemir made him learn by heart as a young boy or this is not something he has learnt about. 

This possibility meaning that a mage got too creative with their “work” again or a new species, or rather **a subspecies** of a monster was born. And neither is a good kind of discovery, especially during a war and trying to safe people and run away. 

-Well, no matter what we still need to get the horses relocated and my stuff onto their backs if we want to run or investigate. – Yennefer always calm and collected offers her own two cents to the discussion.

-No! It’s the perfect opportunity for us to get not only money but information. – Ciri exclaims louder with an expression that looks as if she is doubting the intelligence of the “adults” around her.

-What do you mean, princess? – not being easily discouraged Yen asks while walking next to the stallion Ciri is leading. Geralt just behind them, probably rethinking his life choices at this point.

-Well it’s obvious isn’t it? You and Geralt go and investigate; no matter what you find you tell the one who will pay that nothing can be done for the soldiers and collect the money for the contract.   
We don’t waste resources on the enemy, can gather information about a new danger and possibly if we can avoid or defeat it. And money as a bonus! If some people recognise Geralt we can send you to do it yourself, or later sneak Geralt in so he can also collect evidence. During a war information is key isn’t it? And by looking not only at the soldiers but also their now abandoned camp we may be able to gather info where other troops are going and then avoid them easier. 

-Huh… you do have some intelligence, unlike most **other nobles** I know. Honestly I don’t see any too big problems with your plan. Geralt, what do you think of your charge’s idea?- delighted that the girl has some brain to go with her still child-like looks Yen hopes to have another woman friend to simply talk to in the near future. And without the danger of them stabbing her in the back.

-Horses and equipment check first. – not wanting to add anything more Geralt pointedly closes his mouth with a click and a snarl. 

\- Alright, alright. No need to bark at _your host_ Geralt.- Yennefer subtly reminds him who is letting them stay in her mansion. Well not hers but the one she found and warded… **oh semantics!**

They arrive at the mansion and quickly put the horses at the stable. They take the packs inside and Geralt stays for a while to take care of the animals. They need them in good condition to be able to ride to Kear Morhen before the first frost hits. And with possible detours to find Jaskier first. 

After regrouping in the kitchen they set up a simple, but hearty and simple meal while talking what to do from now on. 

First, they decide that yes; it is a good idea to try and get money from the mayor for their needed supplies. 

Second, they will try to find out as much as possible about what happened. Whatever did it sounds like the type of danger that follows witchers and magic users.

Third, Yennefer needs to either take some chaos bubbling inside of Ciri to replenish her own supply or wait and let it recover on its own. With their situation at hand they all decide that the first option not only helps her be more ready to face the journey, but also will help Ciri control her power. 

A few minutes later Yennefer simply puts her hands on Ciri’s and guides her through the process. Geralt of course watches from the side to make sure everything is going as expected. With a simple spell Yen is looking a lot less exhausted and uses the new wave of chaos inside her to further heal her eyes. 

Taking off the bandage she notes that strong light still will probably pain her and her vision is STILL blurry, but it’s a lot better and she doesn’t need to protect her eyeballs anymore. Or waste her strength on visualising her surroundings. 

After they eat Ciri is left in the warded mansion and is tasked with collecting supplies from Yennefer’s temporary workroom to cast a location spell on Jaskier. Since they don’t have anything that has a strong enough pull to him they have to get creative with one of the things he left with Geralt. 

By leaving them behind he symbolically severed his connection to them and they won’t pinpoint his location on their own. It would be better to find something he lost and is searching for or, in best case scenario, a hair or something other from his body is found. 

Then that would point them directly in his direction and tell how far they are from him. Which would give them a specific location instead of a wide area to search.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be shy share some comments!
> 
> Thank you for reading!~~  
> ;*
> 
> PS: I don't know completely if the info about Geralt's travels to the keep are accurate. It's cannon divergence tag for a reason ;)  
> PPS: Or about the monsters  
> PPPS: Or anything more concrete about the series really...


	11. New "friend" and Investigations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier broken "hangs out" with a new friend in his head.
> 
> Geralt and Yen start their investigation on what happened to the Nilfgaardian soldiers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE BI***es- I mean dear readers!
> 
> Is it funny, angst, or serious? I dunno!
> 
> It's certainly a mess! #ME
> 
> Enjoy!~~
> 
> (Though I wonder how you can enjoy this...)

The bard is once again floating in _the void._ But this time he knows what this is, and since the curse’s goal has been fulfilled no new illusions colour the space. 

Unfocused Jaskier has this unsettling feeling of being watched. Just like before he made the biggest mistake of his life just; _was it hours or merely minutes?_ ago. He tries to reach out into the darkness.

 **-Hmm.. Ohh!... You are initiating contact. Curious…-** a deep and monstrous voice answers his attempts. If Jaskier gave a fuck he would probably be scared. 

-What are you? Another hallucination?- seeing as all this is happening in his mind Jaskier doesn’t even open his mouth, just lets his question drift out of his head into the darkness along with his lack of any attitude.

 **-No, no… I’m- well I guess I’m the entity that simultaneously is and isn’t your curse. You can call me Void if you want.-** The… Void answers him with its weird voice, yet sounding so childlike in a sense?

-Not a bad name to call oneself, I chose Jaskier.- not being surprised at this point that there is an entity living in his head the bard tries to start a civil conversation. 

**-Yes, thank you! Yours also has a nice ring to it. Jaskier… Jaskier! Jaskier? _Jaskier~~_** \- the Void repeats the name with various voices and emotions. 

Allowing this new creature to drift alongside him Jaskier lets it be. Only when the atmosphere of the void, _however that is possible_ changes into something that makes his hair stand on wit’s end does he try to decipher what it is saying. 

**-… you could even make a deal with me and get some… _revenge~~_ -** Void whispers into his ear seductively. If it did that a few days ago Jaskier would have probably jumped and _shrieked_ from the top of his lungs. Now he simply forces his irises to look in the voices direction, not even trying to turn his head.

-What do you _want?_ \- this is honestly insulting. Thinking he wouldn’t find it strange that his torturer wouldn’t try to cause him more pain.

 **-Well, you see I was made as a curse. They dubbed me Thee Curse of Nightmares. But after fulfilling my role of cracking your psyche and pulling information out of you my mistress will leave me alone… I’m going to get very bored if I let you be chained for any longer. I mean do you hear her? She wants to make you a scarecrow and let you die! Unacceptable! I’ll die with you! The most sophisticated curse on the continent allowed to simply perish. No, that won’t do! –** Void ends almost screeching into his head.

-Ok, ok I can hear so be quiet for a second. And tell me if I’m wrong but: you’re giving me a choice to get revenge on _YOUR_ mistress?- Not buying what the entity is saying for a moment Jaskier has stopped caring what he is telling anymore.

 **-Well… you don’t have a choice in reality. I’ll just take over your body and spread more chaos! ~~ I found out that I do quite enjoy manipulating humans and breaking your kind.~~ Now I just want to do it on a bigger scale. –** With the bard distracted Void has already started to seep back into the material world to start his fun.

-Yeah, whatever… This body is of no use so good luck.

 **-And maybe I’ll be even able to meet your witcher and have some fun with him too!~~-** Void comments without any worry, but that won’t be the case for long.

-You… want to do what?...- Jaskier can’t believe what he is hearing. If that fucker thinks it can…

 **-Oh you know: the same what I did to you. It was most entertaining.-** Void uses its abilities to have the darkness back off a little bit and show the bard the visualization of his psyche.

-Like hell… I’ll let you do any- _WHoah !_ – Jaskier is about to tell the curse where he can shove it when from the darkness an item flouts out. 

A beautiful gilded bird cage of huge proportions gets closer to him. Interested Jaskier focuses on its details. There is something bird-shaped trapped in it, but it isn’t any type of avian creature the bard recognises. It’s made of parchment… with _music notes and whole scores_ twisted to look like larks and other singing birds. All looking sad and broken like the bard feels. 

Throughout the bars and inside of the item many branches with leaves twist in circles, also golden and should add further feeling of the birds being trapped, but they look like they give comfort to the sitting notes.

Happy with its distraction Void continues to weave his spell outside. 

And the play begins.

Void would release something that would amuse the bard for longer periods of time and answer his many questions, while working on the outside.

-What are these things?- is the first thing Jaskier asks.

 **-These represent you, in a sense. More accurately _the aspects_ of your soul and mind since they are the things the material plane doesn’t easily show. The bird cage is my addition thou. The birdies inside belong to you. They are your songs and were very annoying. –** Void happily replies, delighted by having more time to play with the bard. Now that it knows him better than his own mother manipulating him is as easy as pie.

Through the void many things float out and into Jaskier’s vision. A shattered mirror, a broken sword, a familiar and broken elven lute that almost makes him feel something, a wolf carving he once made in Oxenfurt that is splintered, but still looking good if he may say so, and many, many others that he can’t thing how fit into being representations of his being. 

If what’s Void telling him is true, that is. Who knows what the entities goal is. But Jaskier does not care. He’s still thinking if he could have done anything differently to stop himself from being so stupid and endangering Geralt. Still finally peacefully drifting…

The Void keeps up the flow of the conversation one-sided. It tries to convince the bard to join his cause and work together.

 **-Come on Jaskier~ I know you want to get your revenge~ Your just human, I mean you didn’t refuse to believe in my visions for too long. So come now and be my partner in crime~. –** The entity delights in its attempts to scramble the bard’s mind further. 

With such declaration Jaskier thinks he figured the Void out. It must another hallucination! Whatever it will has to be fake! Why would it do anything else! And know without him forgetting every time Jaskier can reject this false reality and try to break out. 

Suddenly Jaskier is partially thrown into his physical and aching body. He’s chained up in some tent and the torturer sorceress is heard thumbling around behind the pole. 

**-OK, wasn’t that fun bard? Now let’s get to work and spread the chaos! How about we start with her… You must want to take revenge don’t you?-** Void purrs pleased with itself for doing such an amazing job. With its limited knowledge of magic from his creation it came up with a spell to further help with his ambitions. Now it only needs the witch to come closer and let it take from her with the help of the bard’s body. 

-What?... I don’t know if you noticed but I can’t do anything. I’m not fit physically to even hold myself or have any magical talents to hurt the witch!- Jaskier really can’t believe the Void can do anything more than talk in his head.

 **-Oh don’t worry I’ll help you with that~~…-** entity purrs in his head and starts act one.

**-~~~~~~-**

Yennefer was voted to talk with _the mayor._ Logic being that a _woman_ would be more successful in getting information out of him and unlike Geralt won’t have the problem of being recognised as one of the people Nilfgaard is actively searching for. Of course the encounter happens as they predicted.

-Yes _my Lady,_ the soldiers have been transferred to our temporary hospital ward. If you want to examine their condition you are more than welcome.- the slightly rounded and older man answered most of her questions with enthusiasm. Now knowing a little about why the troop of soldiers remained put in the ruins of a bastion and who their leader was Yennefer is thanking the mayor for allowing her to look around and after he leaves helps Geralt get inside the tent of the ward unnoticed. 

There lay almost 30 soldiers with their armour and weapons taken off and put aside. They all look as if they were sleeping with an occasional twitch or whimper informing the duo that they are having nightmares. There was one bed hidden with curtains that she took note of. She suspects it’s the witch’s leader of the group. The one that is supposed to be **dead.**

-Seriously, **a sleeping curse?** Whoever the caster was had to have a liking for the older fairy tales. I mean would we need to hind their **true loves** to wake them up? – Yennefer finds their predicament quite amusing at first glance. She didn’t forget that the amount of power surrounding her is quite intense for such curse. Usually a mage wouldn’t bother with making it so powerful if it was a simple sleeping curse. One of the most basic ones and one that could be broken with anything ranging from dumping into the afflicted to a lover’s passionate kiss. Or if they really want to go all out they can create their own curse breaking method, but never on this scale and power behind it. 

It doesn’t make sense. Any taught and resourceful mage would use a curse that effects the group, not the individual person each. Doing it in this way either means the caster was a novice or had too much chaos to burn. 

Or worst case scenario both at one. It’s never good to have a loose inexperienced and too powerful mage running around. Unlike Ciri they probably aren’t an almost pure child wanting only good to fall upon mankind. 

Case in point the body laying behind the curtain. 

It resembles more **a corpse** that is halfway decomposed than a fresh one. Once beautiful hair and skin damaged and cut. Wounds look fresh and as if applied at the same time. 

Yennefer waves her hands above the body to figure out what happened to it. And what limited information she can gather without burning herself out is… **disturbing.**

Geralt after joining in on the fun at the same time has finished his own investigation. More focused on possible monsters responsible or any similarities to any he knows. Unfortunately most of what he finds is consistent more with a mage or a truly talented humanoid that had suddenly evolved the ability to control chaos in the **human way.**

After making his rounds he stands behind Yen and looks over her shoulder at the body. The wounds are ones he recognises quickly. 

**Torture.** And not the simple kind no. There’s a burnt brand of a sun showing from under her dress, variously sized scars from pointy objects inserted into the flesh. Other scars from blades, acid and gods know what else. A truly thorough “interrogation”. 

But why would anybody do this to the leader? If they were capable of causing such damage simultaneously a mind reading spell would be a child’s play for the mage.  
-Any theory why go to such lengths?- Geralt asks Yennefer that is finishing with her spell.

-Geralt, this more serious than we thought.- With no evident emotion in her voice the sorceress delivers the news. The witcher knows that when she gets like this it’s one of the very rare times she’s either afraid of something or has no idea what is happening. 

-Meaning?- he asks gruffly for further details.

-This sorceress here had a very... _interesting_ cause of death. – Geralt arches an eyebrow in question.

-She has suffocated when her airways were closed due to her being laid incorrectly… On the wagon that carried her and the soldiers from the camp. Unlike them she couldn’t move to be able to breathe and here is the result. She was alive when they found her. Just unresponsive.- Yennefer is visibly weakened after trying to find out as much as possible, but in her state and just after healing her eyes she’s once again drained. If she goes further she might pass out. 

-So whoever did this “theoretically” didn’t kill anybody? Huzzah… - with an ocean of sarcasm Geralt starts to wonder what is the reason for this. Surely it wasn’t random? He looks over to the soldiers.

-That’s not all, there’s more to this mystery.- Yen’s comment makes him turn back towards her and the dead sorceress. 

-All, and I do mean **all,** of her magic was drained.- the information confused Geralt.

-Don’t you mean her chaos?

-No, that’s what is interesting. If it was just her chaos she would also be put under the curse and it would recharge when she is sleeping. But it’s not only her chaos that was stolen. Both her capacity for gathering large amounts of it and most of her knowledge about magic were taken with it. To do such a thing was theorised only possible by monsters and other creatures with much more natural connection to chaos; **djinns** for example. Which makes no sense since both the curse and method it was applied with are of _human origin._ – she takes a pause in her explanation and stares at the men laying in the beds. None of it makes sense to her.

-The state she’s in as you guessed is also magical. It feels as if all of the caster’s injuries were **transferred** onto her. As revenge perhaps. Which means that the culprit was the one being tortured by them. Well, her more probably. – ending her description and speculations Yen’s face looks very sullen.

-So in other words we have no idea what has done this or anything else for why. **Fucking perfect.** – Geralt as always so descriptive with his conversations already knows where they need to go next.

-Let’s not waste more time. They were cursed in the ruins, so more of the magical footprint is there. You coming?- the witcher is already walking out of the ward.

-Yea, give me a second…

The method, type, amount, and sorceress’ body… they all have no clear connection to each other or to a concreate culprit... – mumbling the last sentence Yen follows Geralt to the abandoned Nilfgaardian camp. 

When they arrive it’s clear somebody, probably the locals, have already plundered most of it. But one thing they couldn’t physically steal stayed strong in this place.  
The magic left by the spells used to curse the camp’s previous inhabitants. 

Geralt’s wolf medallion is almost **vibrating off** his chest while Yen can feel the chaos of the place caress her skin with leftover power summoned here not too long ago. 

**This is not good.**

Such mark is left only when **great magic** is used, akin to a birth of a new mage or sorceress, maybe during the trial of grasses that create the witchers through mutations. And only if the person being changed was already magically inclined. 

And the camp Geralt and the sorceress now stand in has such thing imprinted on it with very strong chaos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HA HA !!! You fought I would let it end quickly, did you?
> 
> NOPE!
> 
> I'm going to milk the angst of our fav couple till the tears dry out!
> 
> *slurpy slurp your tears taste good*  
> Yummy!
> 
> As I said this is just the beginning of Jaskiers whump and Geralt's chase after him.
> 
> Bye~~~~  
> And see you soon (I hope TT)  
>   
> PS: If you have any theories what items in Jaskier's scene mean, or any other thory about the series don't be afraid to hit me up with questions in the comments! Maybe I'll even let you in on a secret¬¬...  
> 


	12. Bye bye "friend" and depression for the Witcher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Void is defeated and Jaskier is free. Too bad he doesn’t believe it and waits for the illusion to break.
> 
> Geralt and Yen investigate the camp and find out that they are close to the bard. It hits Geralt hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le what?!  
> Two chapters in such a short time?! Impossible!
> 
> Well I have been StRuCK with inspiratione and finished this part.  
> And because i'm impatient I post it now.  
> And with this done I eliminate most of my buffer of things to finish quickly for updates... Fuck
> 
> I'll have to find more time to write if I want to post sth. in the next month XD
> 
> With that said:  
> Enjoy~
> 
> PS sorry for such a long chapter (inspiration struc and there's no good place to split the scenes)  
> And the song in this chapter I imagine is a crude cover of "Come little children"

That evening Antira has gotten ready for bed after organising her useless band of wannabe knights to be ready to march just after dawn. In her eyes the bard barely moved or even reacted to his new position. While it did amuse her at the time it would terrify her if she knew what was happening in his mind and what conversation he was having. 

With her last task of spreading information about the mutants whereabouts complete she feels proud of herself. Her teacher praised her resolve and outcome, but at the same time scolded her to slowing down her soldiers. 

_Oh, well; one can’t have everything now, can they?_ She disables the magical communication device.

Suddenly as she sits on her cot she feels **an urge** to see and try to smell any more of that _beautiful perfume_ of true agony and despair from the bard. She takes a step towards him. And then another and the next. With each one she can sense her chaos being drained, but can’t stop herself.

She needs to look into **the bard’s eyes.**

When she takes her final step and turns to face him she’s so weak she actually kneels. And looks up to meet the chained bard’s face.

With eyes **Void.**

Not void of emotion like last time, but just Void. Black, even the sclera and iris is black. 

She stares at the darkness and it stares back. She can’t do anything but await _his judgement._

Finally Jaskier’s shackles open and he falls with his hands reaching for her throat.  
_She doesn’t stop him._

He squeezes it tight until no air can pass through.  
_She doesn’t stop him._

Inside her head she screams and is terrified, but none of her enchanted senses can make any sense out of this situation.  
_She can’t stop it._

Jaskier looks at her with his Void eyes and after a few exhausting heartbeats… he lets her go.

But not without taking all her power and knowledge with him, which forces her to go into a comatose state. 

The witch goes down like a ragdoll and with open eyes full of fear sees as the bard lifts his hands to feed on her body. Most scars and wounds transfer to her. 

Black lines, the same ones she saw when casting the curse dance on his skin which fills with tissues and meat again. The sorceress is now the one left looking like a skeleton. 

The void veins concentrate and _concentrate_ until they converge just below Jaskier’s Adam’s apple. They form a shape she’s familiar with when she tried to teach herself how to play a flute at the palace. _The clef._ The thing that starts the song and all other beats and notes follow only after it is written. 

_She can’t do anything._

But watch as the bard visibly shakes of something and his eyes turn back to normal for a brief second. They were still apathetic but some semblance of will and life peaked through. 

The sorceress falls unconscious when the bard starts to panic internally and his eyes once again turn black.

**-~~~~~~-**

-What do you think you are doing?- Jaskier asks the entity with more emotion, deducing that it is setting up another hallucination to torture him as its only source of _entertainment._

 **\- What I told you I would do!~~ Time to make the other men also pay for their ignorance and sloth while you were being tortured, don’t you think?!-** Void is giddy with the possibility of making humankind suffer in the real world as opposite to hurting only one.

\- No, you won’t…- The bard has had enough. The witch took his body apart again and again; then he was manipulated supposedly by the very same thing now trying the used trick again! This is just a complete repetition of a story… of a chorus… like a rhythm… like he used to do as a bard.

The very thing Geralt brought out of him when he was near. Every song that he crafted if only inspired by the witcher became a success. Even that god _damned heartbreak fuelled drunken_ scraps of a song!

_The songbirds in the golden cage raise their little heads to attention._

Jaskier has had enough. HE was the artist responsible for changing the continents opinions for gods’ sake! He won’t let a stupid voice create illusions that trap him here! If he isn’t allowed to go back to the real world anymore, then the last thing he will create is the vision he will live the rest of his life in!

_The cage starts to come alive with movement._

**-And what are you going to do, bardling? Stop me?! Ehehhehee~~ You said it yourself: you’re useless compared to me!-** Void can’t stop being amused! The prey is actually trying to fight his influence!

-I may not be as strong as Geralt or powerful like Yennefer, but…. I did survive 22 years traveling with a stubborn, _emotionally constipated, **golden hearted, mountain of a man!**_ – Jaskier finally feels some will to live come back to him. If this is his last vision to experience in his life then he’s going to make sure it is fitting for writing at least _5 ballads!_

Void controlling the bard’s body twitches a little. That small fry is getting on his nerves and destroying its mood. So he goes back to the mindscape and shows up as a copy of the White Wolf.

 **-You will sit back and enjoy the chaos with me, _Jaskier~~-_** he whispers warmly while reaching out a hand to cares the bard’s cheek.

Suddenly the musician backs away and stares at it with all his emotion.

\- Don’t touch me with his hands… _do not steal his image…_ Do you kn **OW HOW LONG I HAVE WORKED TO FIX IT FOR HIM!!!** \- All the emotions that the bard suppressed during his torture finally make an appearance. The void, startled drops its illusion and seemingly leaves the bard. It became too dangerous to agitate him. If Jaskier connects a **tiny bit** more to his love for the witcher Void will lose control over him. That damned _true love_ , making the entities’ job so much harder. Why did the gods make it the universal “destroy triger” for all curses? 

-Hey! Get back here!- Jaskier is so not done with Void trying to force him to live a horrible illusion again. 

**-Oh shut up! –** Void shouts with Geralt’s booming voice.

 **-I have torture and a curse to inflict upon these idiots.-** Void grumbles hoping the now more alive bard won’t try and take back control. 

-Oh, you must have never met me if you’re ordering me to shut up!- Jaskier happy with a distraction from the state he found his life to be in uses the new found strength to do exactly what the Void feared: **take control.**

_It’s my head, so it’s my rules, damn it!_

Unknown to him he only feels so strong now because of the chaos and energy taken from Antira and _his heritage_ that stayed hidden until the witch has cursed him.

Now with such strong emotions and desperation it was starting to bloom. Just like the previously closed _buds on the cage._ While at the same time the parchment birds start to flap their wings. _Getting ready to break the Void’s cage._

Jaskier focuses all his attention on controlling his “imaginary body” and for the first time fully looks onto the world with his new self. There’s something ruff on and in his neck and throat, and he feels too healthy for it to be reality but it’s better than suffering because of the illusions. 

The Void’s words are cut off when this happens and its crushed with the bards consciousness in the physical body. He needs to stop the bard from getting more control over the power the body now possesses or this will end badly.

**-Stop this! This is my play to sing, not yours! You refused my offer!**

-Oh no mister, now you won’t do anything to me anymore. I’m taking back the wheel!- Jaskier says confident in his grip over this new illusion. Seeing the many tents surrounding him he gets an idea from the entities ramblings. All these casters seem to really like their curses, so why not indulge in his fantasy? _Torture the torturer for a change. And what’s better than taking their fun?_

He’s going to create the perfect world with his music. A world in which no more tragedy shall fall upon him.

 ** _“Yess, yess feel the anger! And when you slip I’ll be ready to consume you at last!”_ – **Void thinks that this will end well for it. 

_The songbirds are getting rambunctious and the plants circling the cage’s bars start to twist and bend the metal._

Jaskier takes a deep breath with his clear lungs _(HA, another sigh it’s an illusion, his lungs and throat are broken!)_ and tries to start a song with which he could curse these men. 

But the Void is constantly rambling in his head and keeping him off rhythm.

_How am I supposed to concentrate?! UGH.. I never had this problem with Geralt…_

_Now what I used to do when I was training in Oxenfurt to be a bard?... I’ll need a conductor’s baton, it always helped me with my lute practice when the teacher would swing it about… well now my voice will be my instrument._

_Ohh!… And what do we have here?_

Jaskier walks on his healthy legs _(HA! More lies)_ and picks up an interesting thing. It’s the silver dagger the witch pierced him with once. He didn’t notice it at the time, but the handle actually has a buttercup engraved on its end. Such beautiful coincidence! The dagger would actually be a good replacement for a baton. It’s blade is unusually rounded; used more for stabbing than cutting or slashing. 

_With the correct hold it will do nicely._

Jaskier walks back to the tents entrance and starts swinging the blade in rhythm. The physical item much easier to keep in concreated motion than untouchable voice. 

**-What are you doing?! It’s my job!-** Void is honestly offended. He wanted to curse them! **It won’t stand.**

With a final calming exhale Jaskier starts to sing his very own, first curse, while in his head Void is keeping the pecking paper birds in the cage.

The bard’s voice fills the night and spreads toward the near villages and city. There are more than enough people listening, but only the soldiers will feel his music’s effects. And his wrath…

_Tala ta taa~  
tala ta taa~  
Sleep Nilfgaard’s soldiers  
don’t notice my song._

_Just let the sleep,  
take you a-way,  
into the land of…_

**_-the night-mares.  
DON’T LET THEM REST!!! Make them suffer like you did!  
Do not listen to this song, scream and shout all night long! _ **

Void frustrated with the bard’s antics tries to take things into his grasp. The soldiers outside whether they were asleep or awake start to scream, just like Jaskier did few days prior. It’s a much more beautiful song for Void than anything composed by any other musician. 

-No!! You will not have power over me anymore! This is my hallucination and my story! Fuck off you _spilled **blob of ink!**_ \- Jaskier forces his mind to fight over the ownership of his body. 

And surprisingly he wins with his fury and continues the original intention of the spell. The silver dagger swaying in three fourths rhythm. 

The only thing he vows to never lose. The rhythm given to him by Geralt as his eternal muse.

_The birds start to peck at the darkness surrounding the cage and it’s starting to swing from whatever it is suspended in the void._

_Rest my dear’s enemies  
do not go after him.  
Or the princess for that ma-tter~_

_**-Suffer unholily and face my anger, I will make sure you die.  
You just have to sink deeper and let me in charge.  
I promise to keep the witcher in good company.~~- **_ Void counterattacks the bard’s mental hit and once again forces the men to scream.

That is the last offence to the bard. The Void’s curse doesn’t even rhyme! _That won’t do._ The one of many things Geralt taught him is that when a song is supposed to be memorable it must be catchy and true. And that’s double for rhyming: at least some needs to be present.

Jaskier remembers his love for his witcher and tired of pretending and hiding it he fully embraces it. It’s his dream and so he shall feel and do whatever he wants!

_With such conviction the cage breaks and the songbirds fly out, multiplying and overwhelming the entity that spent too much time in the bard’s head than making sure its plan is without flaws. It screeches and thrashes, but finally with one last push the yellow eyes of a certain “ wolf” open in the dark space and illuminate the mindscape in golden light. With life and meaning once again, provided by Jaskier’s dearest muse. The birds dive and attack the curse with true love for the White Wolf. The buds that were blossoming grow, and grow creating a beautiful garden full of warmth and greenery. Just like before Jaskier’s torture began._

Void tries to fight back but fails and is thrown out into the catalyst still lingering in the bards throat from the potion. The catalyst that right now Jaskier is coughing up and vomiting onto the ground as to not suffocate. He pushes his hand into his mouth and pulls out a spiky **black ball.** It scraped his throat on the way out. When it hits the grass, it dissolves with one last weak cry for revenge.

Jaskier doesn’t realise it but at that moment he _freed himself from the curse and was reborn a new man._

With a little bit of a sore throat again, but free to do what he wants. 

He now thinks that the world he sees is another illusion waiting to be broken. So he also lets go of his ambitions and continues the curse. **The clef** left on his skin menacingly glows with new power stolen from the witch and reinforced with his own that laid dormant for such a long time.

_You have served,  
under the black sun,~  
now you won’t,  
wake for anyone~_

_That is my magic and my command,~  
You will lis-ten to me, till the end._

_With this curse fin-ished,  
I bid you adieu,  
now let me take some,  
things off of you ~_

And with the curse set he trails through the packs and gathers food and clothes and _whatever else_ he wants and goes towards Vizima with a cheshire grin. He has more witches to hunt before they try to hurt his love. 

And since this is **his hallucination** he will make sure the story and ending is up to his standards. Starting with the Nilfgaard’s forces and Ciri. He will take care of her for Geralt and destroy his enemies. It’s the least he can do in this narrative without stepping on the witcher’s toes again and respecting _his wish on that mountain._

He’s pretty sure that if he sees Geralt again the illusion will break and the cycle will continue anew. _But that’s fine!_ He pined without seeing his love for so long, what is the rest of his life in a vision in comparison!

With one last shriek or howl he leaves the camp, at the same time breaking every magical device and instrument left behind. And alerting the closest city to the camp and what has transpired tonight. 

He merrily skips on the dirty path and starts his journey north, while unbeknown to him his beloved is just behind him following and searching with Ciri and soon also with Yen.

****

**-~~~~-**

-This is worse than I imagined…- Yennefer goes around the camp’s area looking and feeling for the magic’s currents and follows them. 

She finds their origin in the tent that looks like it belonged to the sorceress leader. There are chains dangling from the support beam and black vomit that reeks of death is found in the entrance. It’s unnaturally shaped like a perfect circle too, as if something dissolved.

Geralt following his enhanced sense of smell comes to an underground chamber filled with odour of fear, anger and usual aftereffects of torture. And something he hoped he wouldn’t have to smell with his nostrils again. 

_Jaskier’s **spilled blood…**_ in large quantities. If he wasn’t treated for such injuries he must have already bled to death. Every instrument of torture is stained with his bard’s blood.

Geralt rushes outside to try and follow its smell but is surprised to notice that it ends in the tent that Yennefer is investigating. As if this is where Jaskier’s bleeding either stopped or he was at the end of the line. Usually during the hunt the witcher would find a body on either end of a blood trail, but here he sees none. And he doesn’t know if he should be happy or worried. 

-They had **him.** – Geralt tells Yen in the threshold and catches her attention. 

-They had **who,** Geralt? – absentminded and trying to understand the magic whirling in such small place Yennefer barely looks at the witcher. The chaos left behind is making her head hurt again when she tries to untangle it.

-Jaskier- The white haired man answers quickly and starts to also investigate the tent with vigour.

\- **WHAT?!** How do you know that? Did you find his bo-… - Fearing the worst case scenario that usually happens to the prisoners following capture by nilfgaard the sorcerers thinks she will need to plan a funeral. 

\- Underground torture chamber. He was there and his scent stops here. What did you find?

-Well… I may have a theory what have happened here. – Yen stands and points to the _black vomit._

\- This is a catalyst that was used to apply a curse. If it didn’t reek so strongly I suspect you would be able to smell Jaskier’s scent in it. Like the blood in the chamber. From what I have gathered two curses were cast here and at least one powerful spell. 

\- And what does it have to do with _him?_ – Geralt is on the verge of going mad and getting Ciri just to rush out onto the road with Roach in search of Jaskier.

-Well… it is more a guess than real investigation since my chaos is spent and I can’t find out more, so here’s what I gathered: 

The first curse was placed on your bard with the catalyst when he was being tortured.- Yennefer starts with her first suspicion.

-Checks out. Even more chaos is left in the torture room.- Geralt hasn’t stopped looking for any hidden portals or trapdoors where Jaskier could have been hidden and missed. A broken magical communication device is something he did note as something interesting. 

\- So that means they were torturing him for information. I bet the curse had to do something with his mind. 

_\- They did use him to try and get to me…-_ Geralt after finishing his search and finding nothing mumbles under his breath.

\- And then… I have no real idea. It’s confusing because the bard doesn’t have any magical abilities or a magical lineage, does he?

-No…- Geralt is hanging his head low. He is the reason his bard is tortured. _Again. Fuck his life, is he really such a bad person to deserve such fate?_

-Then I have no further idea what might have happened… I’m sorry, Geralt I **want** to do- - Yennefer is starting to feel so bad for her ex-lover. All this is happening without real reason. Only because bad people want to do bad things to the ones he loves… When she tries to tell that she could do more, but is out of chaos the witcher interrupts her.

-No Yennefer, you did what you can. Let’s go back to Ciri… His scent and the chaos trail both go north from here, towards Vizima. If tomorrow morning you are good to travel we’re leaving after him. – Geralt is nauseous with the smell of _death, rotten magic, dried blood and tragedy._ He needs to get away, so he starts to walk out of the camp. With his cloak and hood he goes to the manor, Yennefer following him closely because of her worries. 

They don’t talk the whole way there and when Ciri meets them in the manor thay explain to her the bare minimum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hue hue hue, i LOVE angst 
> 
> this is going to be such a doozy, hell yeah!
> 
> Wanna strangle me? Write a comment!  
> Wanna theorise? Write a comment!  
> I love to read them!
> 
> And share this works existance wherever you want, just no coping without permistion etc. please be nice!  
> And also a drawing of Jaskier's new silver baton:  
> 
> 
> Have a nice whatever!  
> Bye, and till next post!


	13. Just keep walking; just keep walking, walking, walking!...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our beloved bard and the trio consiting of a witcher, sorceress and a princess travel from Brudge in direction of Vizima.
> 
> One believing that his reality is a lie, while the other group hunts after him.
> 
> It's a fun trip all things considered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hewwo?  
> What's this?!  
> Another chapter after I said I have no more buffer?! Have I been feeding you lies?!!
> 
> Well, no.... I just... like.. maybe... possibly.... instead of focusing on online lessons and finishing my projects wrote this...
> 
> So yeah!! that's the TeA!
> 
> ENJOY~~ ;*

-You mean that… they have Jaskier?...- Ciri asks the first thing after Yen and Geralt arrived in the late afternoon to the mansion and explained most of what they found. She does so with tears in her eyes.

_No, they can’t have Jaskier with them; he doesn’t deserve it! He taught me so many things about the world and shown so much kindness. He was the one who sang for me in the royal gardens and showed me how to braid my hair so it holds when I was running and playing in the palace. He played the part in formal situations but didn’t care I was a “Princess” and he was supposed to be “under me“. He treated me like a child when everybody treated me like a doll. For being my friend and confidant he doesn’t deserve such fate… He was mischievous and a troublemaker as my grandma called him, but he doesn’t deserve it!_

-They **had…** \- Geralt unable to cope with his own raging and colliding emotions doesn’t know how to comfort his daughter without breaking down himself.  
And explaining to her what they found does not help in that regard.

-So where is he now?... – with both hope and dread the young girl asks about her favourite tutor.

_Please not dead, please not dead, please, please please **pleaseplease…**_

Yennefer breaks the commentary running in her head and places a comforting hand on the girl’s shoulder.

-His tracks point towards Vizima. We’ll be traveling there tomorrow at dawn sweetheart, so come now. Time for bed.- Yen gently takes her hand and leads to one of the many bedrooms. 

Not forgetting about Geralt she spares a look at him from the stairs leading up and sees he is not in a good state. When he lifts his empty eyes to meet hers she silently asks with her expression what he needs. Him walking back into the common room is enough of an answer for her. 

With Yen and Ciri getting ready for the night Geralt kneels next to the fireplace in the common room and tries to meditate and calm himself. They ate their fill when they arrived back from the outskirts, but he still feels his guts up to his throat. What he witnessed the aftermath of and smelt at that campsite wasn’t pretty or good for his mental state. And he wants to be stable not only to help Ciri, but to quickly find Jaskier and help him.

_Please, my bard… Be safe for me._

And with that thought on his mind he starts to drift fully with plans of their reunion when he finds his heart again and fixes, or at least apologises for the biggest mistake in his life. 

He dreams of waking up with his bard on his chest burrowed in furs in Kear Morhen after a pleasant night, full of soft touches. The early sunlight gently flowing over Jaskier’s locks and young face. Temptation impersonated. 

Locking such fantasies before they get out of control and turn into misery when he wakes, Geralt finally, after weeks of constant vigilance fully allows himself to… just be and rest. Not sleep, because Ciri could still wake up with a nightmare. And he needs to wake and help her when that happens.

Fortunately for our trio the night goes without anymore events and they get a good night’s rest.

**-~~~~~~-**

Jaskier is following along the beaten road going the way other wenches of Nilfgaard went. Hoping to stop their troublesome meddling. It is starting to darken, so he takes one of the many meals he took off the soldiers. He’s careful as to not prick himself on the dagger he took from the wench. It’s also stashed in his pack he has casually tied on his hip.

And since it’s his illusion he made it lighter to carry by putting a larger space inside in one of his pouches. _Ahhhh.. what the mind of an artist can create._

He walks through the treeline and finds a suitable tree for his needs.

Still thinking he’s in some hallucination the bard doesn’t realise he is actually using chaos and harmony in tandem to _“fix the illusion up to his likings”_. That it's reality he’s changing into what he sees as better and that he’s using his until now locked magic and the chaos stolen from Antira. 

He has already grown a few flowers (buttercups, a wild rose and a few wolfsbanes; _he’s hilarious isn’t he? Such a poetic genius_ ), scared off an aggressive fox and healed a fallen bird’s wing just because.  
All thanks to the power of his mind’s control over the curse’s illusions, of course.

He feels a little bit more tired after each “fix”, but if he remembers correctly this is one of the longest false realities he experienced. And largest too! Not only does his body not ache ( _you’re getting sloppy Void… or you wench_ ), the world around goes on and on without looping or breaking. That whole “void thing” must have been the witch’s tries of improvement of the curse. And it did work, if he says so himself. Everything feels as real as it did the last few times, but now he knows. _All of this is just a trick! Hahahahha !!! They won’t get anything else out of him. No sir-e!_

With a wide smile and a full stomach Jaskier wills a tree to pick him up and cradle his body in the air. He lays with his back on the leaves and looks at the night sky getting more and more full of stars.  
He wonders if the illusion would also change their positions if he stayed here for long enough. 

Oh well, he’s going to be forced to live a different lie sooner or later, so who cares! He will have some fun before that happens.

While falling asleep and remembering all that happened through the day of travel and night before Jaskier doesn’t realise that he is no longer fully human. Or that his abilities he summed up as “illusion manipulation” were very similar to the one’s that belonged to creatures forgotten and theorised to be only of legend in university. **Fae:** fairies, pixies and whatnot, that instead of using chaos like most of the humanoids used “harmony”; described as nature’s forces to cast spells. Creatures Jaskier only read about in the libraries of Oxenfurt’s University and found partial inspiration for his first few poems and songs.

And he also doesn’t care that he now bears a mark of a clef on his neck that pulses with magical chaos from the witch he drained. Which makes him even more powerful while he wanders through the world in delirium and unchecked mental state. 

Able to control nature with his inherited powers and limited chaos for other tricks that he stole Jaskier became a type of force capable of doing anything he desired. Only limitation being his mind, understanding of the world and amount of raw magic he had at his disposal. Unfortunately one of these wasn’t… cooperating at the moment. While the other too were also lacking, so his limitless power might be more theoretical, but still possible. 

He’s no longer a weak bard following a witcher and hating a sorceress from afar. Now he was a fae of music and rhythm, that also acquired the ability to steal witches’ chaos thanks to the curses meddling with his body and mind. His songs now will have more effect than simple inspiration or mood lifting properties. With his voice, right attitude and understanding of his power Jaskier’s dreams could become reality if he wished. 

Even thou we all know that Jaskier won’t take the easy way out. He likes a challenge and if you don’t believe him, remember: he spent 22 years running after a stubborn witcher just to have a chance at being his friend. So he won’t do things without earning them first. He’s too good of a person to do that and hey! it’s fantasy so why not be the best version of oneself for the time being? He can always start to rape and murder later when he’s bored, but now his only targets are the wenches of Nilfgaard and his beloved’s enemies. 

Not to mention that he’s a lover not a fighter. Too much blood and guts make him want to vomit.

But still after all that is said and done, what he desired most while living in his “illusion” is for Geralt and Ciri to live happy lives. Preferably with him.

But since their appearance would probably break the illusion he isn’t too keen on finding them. Better to help these illusionary versions indirectly. And who knows, maybe when they finally kill him in the real world he will be free for the last and final time and see Geralt in the afterlife after one of the beasts he sang about would finish his beloved. If that happens he is for certain going to wait with open arms. 

For now he’s going to sleep.

**-~~~~~~-**

The next day at the crack ass of dawn all three special visitors of the abandoned manor pack their combined bags onto their two horses. Thankfully Yennefer has some enchanted bags with her so most of her stock and supplies weigh nothing and look even less full. Maybe later when they find another abandoned steed she will have her own horse, but at the time the sorceress is satisfied with riding behind the princess. Talking about nothing to both pass the time and take their minds off the closest and most hurtful topics.

-So what did you call this horse? With Geralt in charge I guess… _Roach Junior_? – Yennefer teases the stoic man riding in front of them. Ciri is in unusually high spirits. 

At least on the surface. The hectic schedule and travel help her in not fully digesting everything but she supposes that is for the better. She can’t become an obstacle during their mission, can she?  
-Umm… well we didn’t name him yet. Geralt said that then I would attached and then sad when it gets hurt…- Ciri answers with empty energy.

-Well I certainly can’t just call him _the horse_ or _the stallion_ the whole time. It can get confusing. So what did you want to call him? – Yennefer doesn’t know it but with this line of questioning she was digging up a previous conversation between the princess and Geralt. 

A conversation about what would Jaskier name the horse since he would be the poet of the group if he was with them. Ciri had a suggestion, but Geralt at the time still confused in his new role and so very defensive stopped the topic. He ended it with banning talks about Jaskier all together for only when they were both up to it and telling Ciri to not name the horse. 

The riding princess thinks if it’s alright if she tell the story and looks at Geralt for support. When she glances at his back his head is slightly turned and he gives a sharp nod. He knows what she is asking about with her look.

-Well, when we got it we discussed it a little bit… Mainly what would Jaskier name the horse, with him being the artist and all that, but the discussion ended… _heated_ and was dropped… - Ciri uncertain of what to say further shuts her lips with a click of her teeth. Yen mentally beats herself for asking the question and bringing the mood down… 

Well she can’t back down now, can she?

-And what did you two decide?

-I think that Jaskier would name him **Pegasus…** Geralt said that was the most probable option.- Ciri timidly answers the witch’s question.

- _Mhmmm…_ \- Geralt answers and backs up the story in his own way.

\- Well I thinks it fits him nicely.- Yennefer hoping to try again to lighten the mood goes onto another topic. 

Not long after Geralt notices that his medallion is slightly moving. Focusing his senses on the road he finds a buttercup and a wolfsbane flowers twisted together on the side of the road.

He quickly gets off Roach and inspects them. Turns out it’s no coincidence that the flower Jaskier named himself after in a different language and the one he chose for Geralt one night after talking on wine are here. 

On the road where Jaskier supposedly travelled on. And only to prove him right and give him hope the witcher can smell a light perfume of his bard on the flowers. It’s different than usual, but he sums it up to the weird circumstances they found themselves in. He picks the flowers and shows them to Yennefer still sitting on the newly-named Pegasus. 

-Can you get anything from them?- Geralt asks with a low tone.

-Hmmm… let me just…- Yennefer takes them from witcher’s grasp and inspects them with everything she can. The magic that surrounds them does feel the same as the one left in the camp.  
-If my chaos is correct these were created by the same magic that cursed the soldiers back in Brudge. If it’s your bard or _something else_ I can’t tell you yet. It’s too small of a sample.- the sorceress lets Ciri take a look and feel of the twisted flowers and she gives them back to Geralt. He then puts them on the inside of his breastplate. _Close to his heart._

-Whatever it is we know Jaskier is probably with it.- the white haired man gets back on Roach and the trio continue their journey. He can’t fanthom his bard being anything other than a cute human musician, so for him the only explanation of this is that he’s either kidnapped by the newcomer or went with it willingly after it saved him. He hopes it’s the latter, because if it’s not then the one who cursed the soldiers and caused such mayhem is… his lark. And that’s something he can’t thinks about right now. He needs more evidence. 

They travel on towards Vizima.

Towards the White Wolf's Dear Heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave your comments below, and I'll do my best to learn better writting for the next chapter of BLIS! (sung in LWAY outro cover)
> 
> Hope you liked this chapter (even if it was written in like 4hours and the characters are poor shells of themselves and the plot and descriptions don't capture all details and other things from my imagination. THatS cool!)
> 
> Have a nice whatever!!!


	14. Golden fields.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nice walk in a wheat field does wonders for one's mental state, does it not?
> 
> Well not for Jaskier...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *slips this chapter under your doors *
> 
> Have a read lovelies and enjoy!~~
> 
> PS: The song that is butchered this chapter (as you probably guessed) is : "Everything at Once" by Lenka

For the next few days of walking Jaskier couldn’t catch up to Amara and her soldiers quickly enough. In the meantime his delusions only grew further and his personality slowly turned back to how he was before the “mountain incident”. Even if it is reluctantly and due to his broken mental state stuck in denial. 

As such he decides to return to old habits. This is his ideal version of the world after all. He even started to compose a new song. 

Nothing in here really matters so he decides to sing about what he has on his mind ever since he left the camp: his love for Geralt that just doesn’t quit. Isn’t that an interesting topic? it somehow makes him feel less alone in delusion. 

Honestly it’s not even that surprising; it is the thing that let him break the curse and unleash his hidden fae heritage. Without him knowing and understanding anything about it no less. 

And so he walks near some fields, working folk and their village but decides to ignore all of it. He has enough food to last him longer on his journey and these people aren’t real anyway. 

He sings his new creation to pass the time. 

It’s not his most technically advanced one or deep with meaning, but it does bring him hollow and temporary joy and through it his magic blesses the golden fields around him. 

He starts quietly and calmly with appropriate gestures to further describe his feelings. His voice being his only instrument right now after all that happened (not counting the dagger-baton as an instrument!):

_As sly as a fox, as strong as an ox  
As fast as a hare, as brave as a bear  
As free as a bird, as neat as a word  
As quiet as a mouse, as big as a house_

And then he raises the volume and pushes the chorus out of his lungs with power. 

The clef on his neck and his cauliflower-like blue eyes shine with his magical prowess and accidental blessing brought by his mad and forced performance.

_All~~ My Witcher is, All~~ My Witcher is, oh oh oh  
All~~ My Witcher is, is everything_

He lowers his voice again, but the villagers have already sensed something coming down the road near where they are working. They decide to ignore a clearly mad man’s singing and go back to work a little further, letting him pass. But a little girl, not older than 9 summers is closer to Jaskier and gets enveloped in his singing due to her lack of fear of strangers and need for something new and interesting. 

_As kind as a wolf, as sharp as a tooth  
As deep as a bite, as dark as the night  
As sweet as a song, as right as a wrong  
As long as a road, as loud as a toad_

He speeds up thinking about the numerous “what ifs”, the possible versions of his life with Geralt. Versions that would be possible if he wasn’t a coward and confessed before he got stuck in the illusionary world. Before the dragon hunt destroyed his chances, or even before Yennefer became a fixed point in Geralt’s life. Damn it all…

_As pretty as a picture hanging from a fixture  
Strong like a family, strong as I wanna be  
Bright as day, as light as play  
As hard as nails, as grand as a whale_

_All~~ my love is oh oh oh, All~~ my love is wo-oh oh  
All~~ my love is ohhh, is everything_

_Everything at once!!!_

_Everything I have, ohhh…~~_

_Everything I want!..._

Jaskier starts to twirl on the road and bouncing from one wheat field to another on the opposite side of the path and repeats the chorus a few times.

He looks like a poor reincarnation of a god of harvest. Only thing missing is an outfit different than the rags he took from the camp. 

And at least one golden artefact, then he’s set. Otherwise he already has the aesthetic, blessings and attitude in his disposal. 

His singing gets gentler once again as he returns to walking on the road; like a normal person; passing outside of the village by a good distance. It’s going further towards Vizima; the city that’s soon going to be under attack. He looks at a corpse of a farmer clearly killed by the Nilfgaardians laid on a wagon waiting for other corpses to join and be buried later. He ignores it all and continues his song.

_As warm as the sun, as silly as fun  
As cool as a tree, as scary as the sea  
As hot as fire, cold as ice  
Sweet as sugar and everything nice_

_As old as time, as straight as a vine  
As royal as a king, as buzzed as a bee  
As stealthy as a tiger, smooth as a glider  
Pure as a melody, hot as I want to be_

Ending his song he puts more emotion into it. Unknowingly freeing a stronger than average spell onto his surroundings. This time; to create a contrast in his repertoire; a different spell. Of good fortune and simple joy. And the little girl that was hiding and listening to him sing gets hit with most of his temporary blessings. 

_All~~ I wanna be, wo- o- oh, All~~ I wanna be, wo- oh oh  
All~~ I wanna be is ne-ear him;  
Love partner in all..._

He tries to go on but the girl, moved by the performance stumbles onto the road. She didn’t hear everything because he changed the volume of his singing so much but she heard enough.   
She quickly runs up to the singing man and asks:

-Umm.. excuse me! Who is the song about?- She can’t believe such song could be written and performed without a special someone in mind. 

-Hmmm…? Oh, hello little illusion! – Jaskier slows his walking, but doesn’t stop and looks at the imaginary girl. 

_She’s cute and reminds him of Cirilla…  
And that doesn’t squeeze my heart, no it does not... shut it Void! _  
He thinks imagining a snickering voice in his head reminding him of his mistakes.

-Well my beloved of course!- Jaskier’s a little bit off-putting facial expression and appearance scares the girl just a touch. 

Experiencing herself the horror of war and the marching soldiers just a few days ago she thinks she can put the two and two together. Thinking of the reason for the singer’s state is that his beloved is not around anymore.

-Ohh... i-is he d-dead?- in true childlike fashion she stutters the question out.

-He might as well be…- he says thinking how this is a hallucination and that he can’t ever see Geralt or it breaks. How in the real world the witcher doesn’t even want to do anything with him.

Jaskier’s answer stuns the girl. She stops in her tracks with a tilted head and a very… expressive face of confusion. While the bard leaves her to walk further down the road without her. 

The girl never expecting such an answer decides that the man is too mysterious for his own good and goes back home. 

That evening she will notice that a few lucky things happened to her family and that life, even during a war has some joyful moments. Her family is happy for her to find some joy in their circumstances unlike them and the rest of the village.

The bard is once again going through a forest and is cutting with his baton/dagger a picture in a large oak’s bark he choose to lean on for a break while setting down for the night. 

Forgoing the fire, since in this illusion he doesn’t need to worry about such things, he carves a miniature image of the wolf medallion he always saw dangling form his love’s neck. After getting ready to sleep he grows some moss to lay on and goes to the dreamy lands. 

He may not predict it but tomorrow he is going to meet with Amara’s group and have another confrontation with a Nilfgaardian sorceress. 

What’s going to happen is just a second verse of this ballad of adventure. 

****

-~~~~~~-

****

**  
**

After another day of travel the Pack consisting of Ciri, Geralt and Yennefer rides through a village surrounded with golden wheat fields and smaller green ones with vegetables. When they ride next to a peasant girl working in a field next to the road both Yennefer and Geralt notice the chaos that surrounds her. Yen with her own, while Geralt with his trembling medallion.

They both get down from their horses and as casually as they can try to not frighten the girl Yennefer asks:

-Hello, little one. Have you seen a bard come near your village with a… companion not too long ago?- Tring to feel gentler than she is Yen’s smile is small and forced, while Geralt a few feet away hears the conversation and watches if any of the men working on the fields recognise and wish them any harm. Ciri is still hidden in her cloak, sitting on Pegasus. 

-Ummm… I’m not supposed to talk with weird people again. I’m s-sorry.- The girl starts to turn away, but Ciri choses this moment to dismount and show her face. She’s slightly crouching to hide herself from famers working. 

Geralt also takes note that it’s not just the girl emitting magic but a part of the field does as well. Just barley as if it was gently caressed with a spell, judging by how it looks and smells apart from the rest of the field. It’s both a little healthier and prettier. 

-Wait! Hey, I’m… Fiona and these are my…aunt and dad. We’re looking for my… uncle!- Ciri lies through her teeth. Yen is raising an unimpressed eyebrow with _“what are you doing?”_ as an intended message they are to convey.

Thankfully the girl trusts another young child better than the scary adults and doesn’t run away.

-Well I’m not supposed to tell…- the little and frightened girl looks quickly between Yen and Geralt. Ciri seeing this takes her hand and goes to hide in the wheat field. Geralt of course with his enhanced hearing can still listen to their conversation.

-Ok, now they aren’t listening. So did a singing man walk through this village with a companion or something?- Impatient the young princess forgoes all pleasantries. 

-Well, there was that one weird and mad man singing, but he didn’t look like a bard. And he didn’t have any companions.- the girl thankfully doesn’t have the best sense of survival or one that is supposed to be common, so she recounts all that she remembers truthfully.

-What did he look like?

-Well, he had brown, warm hair almost to his shoulders. Very dirty, just like his clothes. They were plain and ripped in some places. What else… he looked really scary and his eyes were blue and mad!- Girl excitedly tells Ciri everything she needs to be partially confident in identifying this “singer” as Jaskier.

-Ok, thank you. We have to be going now, but can you not mention us to any other outsider that asks? – Ciri tells the girl already knowing that if others say the right questions she won’t hesitate to sell them out.

-Ok! Bye then!- the girl goes back to hiding/ working in the wheat fields.

The princess goes back to her guardians and knowing that Geralt heard everything only repeats the conversation to Yen while they are already riding on Pegasus after Jaskier. 

When they camp for the night Geralt finds a wolf carving in one of the oak trees and smells the faintest trace of his bard. They were getting closer to meeting him after all this time.   
He can’t wait when they catch up to him, presuming he doesn’t have a horse or companion with him as the girl said. 

Just a little bit longer, a trip to the keep and Geralt will be able to finally attempt to relax. His constantly tensed muscles ready to act whenever have already started to make themselves known.

Letting Ciri sleep on an unnatural moss bed, that from Geralt can smell the faintest perfume of Jaskier and the weird and new magic, he thinks and talks in whispers with Yen about what they know. Their theories what might have happened to his bard distilled into such: he, because he’s human, had to be saved by a creature, person or entity that can do all that weird magic and keep them safe. Even if the girl's testimony says differently. 

Jaskier clearly charmed his saviour, evident in all the magically created things they found that only the musician would make. Example: the twisted flowers and the moss bed Ciri is currently occupying.   
The Companion has to be untrained hence they’re probably some kind of a humanoid or monster capable of such magic. The only hole in this theory being that Geralt living and learning about monsters and other nasty things for almost the last century has never heard about anything like that. 

This notion prompts Yennefer to think if the bard really is a simple human after all. 

Both Geralt’s skills and Yen’s abilities didn’t always allow them to identify things that are magical in nature. Either because they were too intelligent and hid themselves or so weak that they didn’t notice until their power awakened. 

The witcher firmly repeats that Jaskier has to be human and not a mage or creature. He walked with him for 22 years. He can’t describe himself as the bard’s friend if he didn’t notice such thing during all that time. For Gods’ sake, he even noticed the different _moles_ on his bard’s body that appeared over the years and where they are. He knows what Jaskier likes and hates.

But… Yennefer has a point he doesn’t know everything. Like what real relationship the bard had with his family. What he wanted to achieve apart from traveling and singing. Why he stayed all this time with the Butcher of Blaviken…

Sufficiently annoyed with the many unanswered questions about Jaskier’s situation at the moment Geralt goes to meditate under the same tree the wolf symbol was carved into.

Yennefer also thinking over all the evidence they collected and her own experiences with the bard theorises what really happened until sleep also takes her away.

Tomorrow they wake and travel onward without fuss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm... Jaskier's use of his magic develops, noice!~
> 
> I love Geralt's and Yen's conspiracy theories!   
> Geralt is all like:"No, Jaskier is harmless and defenceless baby bard. MIne to protec... no harm only protec..."  
> while Yen is thinking like:"Either that man I met was a strong imposter or something happened to him and I don't like either option..."
> 
> Have a nice day!!~~


	15. Interlude II: Opinions on traveling with people

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do Eskel and Lambert think about traveling with a companion after their journey to Vizima?  
> Let's find out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
> This is a short diversion of the main story, because I don't have anything other ready yet for posting.
> 
> This was written in like 3 hours thanks to a sudden urge to immortalise an image I had while laying to sleep...
> 
> Geralt with Jaskier sitting on a fallen log, thigh to thigh. Having a nice evening together, whipsring about this and that...  
> While on the other side of the firecamp Eskel and Lambert are also sitting and looking at each other thinking: "Is this normal? Is this allowed? Softness outside the keep? Nah, not possible. Miss us with that weak shiet" and get more and more awkward because they don't know how to walk the Path with somebody else, but at the same time are jelly as heck XD

Eskel and Lambert have been traveling for three days together and find this experience quite… different compared to their other times traveling the Path. 

The witcher kind wasn’t made to work in pairs so they have no idea what to do with each other. 

Do they have to talk non-stop? 

Is it alright if they act like in the keep?

Who gets the watch during the night? Who sets up the camp and who packs it up?

Is it weird for Lambert to ride on Scorpion behind Eskel or not? 

They have no idea. 

_How the fuck did Geralt of all of the witchers I know travel with a bloody human bard of all things?  
When we find him I’m so forcing him into talking about his everyday travels with the man.  
Fuck all the stories of slaying wyverns. I want to know how he didn’t kill him when they were working together.  
For 22 years! What the fuck?! How did they do this shit!?_

And other combinations are the main thoughts occupying Lambert's brain.

Eskel has the same ideas and very similar, but more cultured thoughts running through his head.

When they meet up with Geralt he’s also going to have a chat with him. And if they meet the bard at the same time he’s going to praise the man both as a saint for putting up with the worst of his brother and as a mad quack for the same thing instead of running away to the luxurious court life.

They don’t answer these questions all the way to Vizima. Every day was getting less and less awkward, but still not as good as traveling alone. Every few days they would have an argument and one or the other sulked for the next 24 hours. 

And it's not that they aren't great friends, they're the closest thing to brothers other than the real thing! They lived together in the keep with Vesemir and Geralt for almost a century. There should be no awkward feeling between them.

But that's just in the keep. Away from the world, it's customs and stares. 

Every village they went through the people working in the fields eyed them wearily. Those selling food looked suspicious of them. 

One witcher was barely tolerated in most and two was just begging for them to start talking behind their backs and insulting them when they thought they couldn’t hear. 

Although in the last decade or two some places started being nicer to them, all thanks to some weird bard writing imagined ballads about them. A complete weirdo if you were to ask them. At least they had something to tease their brother about during the winter since his companion is also a bard. In the beginning they thought that he was the one responsible but when they told Geralt he just huffed and left. And with him that equals hysterical laughter so their theory must have been pretty out there to make him feel that way. 

In the end they gained new respect for their brother and his companion for traveling for so long together. They barely tolerated each other when both were doing the same amount of work and tried to keep their distance and silence. 

How Geralt didn’t murder an annoying bard human just after he started walking with him they don’t know. He couldn’t be as useful to have around as another person capable of going hand In hand with a witcher, right?

When they stand with the city’s gate in view they would have been traveling together for almost a week and a half. And their questions left unanswered. 

The festival that was planned in the market square is going to be seemingly ruined for all in a day or two, but a different type of show will play out in its place. The music is certainly going to be amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you agree?  
> Do you dissagree?
> 
> Tell me in the comments below!  
> ;* 
> 
> Sorry it's so short but hay, I can't make everything almost 2k without greater content/ inspiration and free time.
> 
> Have a nice day!


	16. Interlude III: Triss and Wolves meet in Vizima

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the name suggests Eskel and Lambert finally meet Triss and ask her for a small location spell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ughh...... Eskel~ Lambert~ please stop invading my mind with this : ) 
> 
> Triss you're ok, you are too nice.
> 
> I promise this is the last time I get sidetracked and will now return to the main story.  
> But I just had to...
> 
> Oh and in the timeline these events are a little bit in the future.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> PS: yes it was written in few hours bc ~*inspiration*~

Triss is walking around Vizima with her hood up; covering her red locks and pale skin. She has spent most of her free time after Sodden Hill getting mages and other non-humans out of the area before Nilfgaard shows up.

Her friends will not survive when the armies with their anti-human and anti-magic-that-is-against-us agendas finally arrive and conquer the city. There’s no doubt about it.

Casting illusions and other spells to help with the process has left her exhausted. But she won’t stop now. She has a mission to accomplish and trauma to suppress. 

Thinking about all the sisters she lost during the battle… No she can’t think about Yennefer now. She will save the magical community of Vizima in her honour instead. Then maybe she will allow herself to hide in an abandoned cottage in some mountains. 

She ducks her head and swiftly moves into an alleyway leading to one of her associates. King Foltest might not care what happens to the non-human population of his capital city when Nilfgaard attacks but that won’t stop Triss. She knows the king was sitting in his palace for the last three weeks trying to come up with a strategy to save himself. 

When she arrives at her destination the medic sorceress is happy to see the elven (and still glamoured) family of the local tailor and librarian. They are in the middle of finishing packing all of their most important belongings in their cart. When the man sees her approach he immediately stops and greets her with a tight smile while the woman is carefully rearranging her books. 

-Lady Triss, you’re just in time. We’re leaving as soon as possible and weren’t certain if we should wait or If w-… - the very stressed elf didn’t know what to do with his hands.

\- Calm down Ennal, I wouldn’t let you leave without checking your glamours. Now let me have a look.- Triss tries to make the tailor relax. 

-Yes, of course… Here; we gathered them up beforehand. – he hands over the five little trinkets hosting the enchantments. Their forms ripple a bit, especially on their ears and faces, but the illusion still holds strong. A good sign for Triss, since she won’t have to recharge them as much. 

And so she piles her chaos into the charms and gives them back to the family. Ennal in exchange gives her a small satchel with coin and an unexpected package.

-And what’s this? We only agreed on coin…- Triss furrows her brows not understanding why they would give her anything more. She opens the package and sees a beautiful vest in autumn colours that looks as royal as one might get. And under it she finds an old looking tome of fairy tales that looks ready to turn into dust with the lightest touch.

\- Well, we know that the situation is… bad and you might want to get out of here as fast as you can, so… to lighten the time you have to spend locked in this city we want to give you this little something in thanks. I hope you don’t mind?...- The elf has already returned to packing and is calling the three children to get settled on the cart with their mother. 

\- Wow, I don’t know what to say… thank you. They will surely help with the everyday boredom. – with the cheeky reply the sorceress and tailor quickly bring an end to their conversation.  
As Triss watches the family leave the city in danger she spares a glance at the palace. She knows that the king and his citizens have a month maximum if not less for the army to arrive.  
And yet the king decided to organise a festival to distract the people from it. Even if everyone already knows that Nilfgaard is coming. 

Oh, well… some music before the end won’t hurt. 

And with that thought the sorceress goes on to help another poor soul escape this dreadful city and country. Some people like her don’t stop until they drop.

As such she has another big surprise when arriving late in the day at her temporary residence. She finds two witchers on her doorstep. Both wearing the medallion of a wolf and both she has heard about from a mutual friend or two. 

Lambert and Eskel are just happy to be closer to finding their brother. The sooner they get everything settled the sooner they can go back to the keep and wait out the war.

-I suppose you gentlemen are looking for some assistance of the magical variety?- Tired, but intrigued Triss opens the door and gestures for the men to get in.

-Well my brother’s a prick, but I wanted to know if you were gracious enough to cast a location spell for us.- Eskel desperately trying to keep half his face in a shadow gets straight to the point.

-Hey! Talk for yourself! I’m a perfect nobleman. A true one, not like those fucking cowards hiding in their castles. – Lambert trying to defend his honour only proves Eskel right. Triss lifts a corner of her lips in a smirk as her only reaction. She looks at the bigger but kinder witcher and answers his request.

-Well, as long as you have something to use as a focus I’ll be glad to help. Otherwise a location spell without one would be too draining for me at the moment. You know constantly saving elven asses. – At that Lambert simply chuckles and leans on the nearby wall. He pulls out an elegant carving clearly made by someone other than the wolf Triss was described by Yennefer. It’s a wooden lark.

-Here. It’s one of his secret “precious trinkets” given to our brother by some confused women trying to woo him. His traveling companion supposedly made him keep those to tease him for whatever reason. Thanks to that same bastard these poor ladies even try to do this shit. Or that’s what Geralt is saying. – clearly happy with sharing an “embarrassing secret” of his brother under the pretence of locating him Lambert lifts an eyebrow in challenge for his present brother to object. He likes this friend of Geralt’s, she isn’t like most other sorceresses. She seems kinder.

Eskel does not comment how they actually, just for such emergencies, have their own little things they once agreed on being their location type spell focuses. 

Like the piece of Lambert’s shattered dagger from his youth or a page from Eskel’s favourite book, Geralt gave the three surviving wolf witchers a piece of a random object that most strongly focused chaos on his location. In his case, at least at that time that was a part of his self-made bestiary. It was an object his person was strongly enough connected to. But even Lambert noticed that the trinkets he started collecting over the last decade were even better. So in secret before the youngest wolf left for the Path some years ago in spring he took (stole) one of them. Eskel did the same, but his brothers don’t need to know about that.

Triss took the carving and admired it for a second. It looked like it was professionally made but there were some parts that showed it was made by an amateur. A skilled, but not experienced one at least.  
After she gathered all she needed for the spell and her chaos caressed the wooden lark she was surprised that actually two people left strong enough emotions imbedded in it to be able to track them. One light and sparkling, the other darker, but still reacting in a similar way. 

If she didn’t know better who these people were she might dare to say that this was a gift exchanged by lovers. But apparently its just a stupid gal’s attempt at seducing the White Wolf. Quite humorous in any other situation.

The lark floats for a second in her palm and a drop of light emerges. It lands on the splayed out map on the table near Maribor. 

-Huh… he’s closer than we thought… good. Can you tell where he is heading? – always amazed in the presence of magic Eskel’s face lights up with the news.

-A second…- Triss visibly concentrates on the spell, and with her eyes closed wills the trinket to tell her what her witcher friend is doing. 

-Can she really do that?- in the meantime Lambert can’t comprehend what mages can and cannot do with chaos.

-Yes, I can. And you’re in luck. He’s very clearly and predictably traveling in our direction.- Finished with the spell and not needing the carving she gives it back to Lambert. He gently thows it in the air few times, thinking before saying:

\- So we can just wait for the bastard. Great, sorry Eskel but I had enough travel, what do you say? There’s enough contracts in the city to keep us occupied and fed. – Done with the awkward existence on the Path with someone else Lambert begs with his eyes to not go forth and meet up with their brother. 

Eskel takes the bait, also not wanting to go further south to only immediately go back.

-Sure, it’s what a week till he gets here? No need to actually run after him.- thinking they’re finished Eskel raises from his chair and goes for the door.

-Wait, if the two of you are staying would it be trouble if you helped me?- Triss has also risen and put her palms on the table over the map. If she has two witchers helping her she will be able to save even more people.

-What’s your offer? – the brat Lambert nonschalantly puts him feet on the very same table.

-If you help me with getting magical people away from Vizima and Nilfgaard I will allow you to take residence in here, and help with whatever you need for the hunts. When Geralt arrives I suspect the army will be on his toes so then I will go with you and also travel north. Deal?- Knowing that Eskel is the one she needs answer from she look straight at him.

-Well…. I don’t see why not.- knowing that if he refuses Lambert will stab him the witcher agrees with the sorceress’s conditions.

-Perfect. Here, this is going to be great.- Satisfied Triss gives them a tour of the house and the next morning they figure out the next steps in their plans. 

Such beautiful friendship will come in handy by the end of the week since Fringilla is going to be approaching the city. And they will have 4 important people to save. Or try to at least...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me: Need Jaskier to suffer... need to make him a BAMF...  
> Eskel and Lambert: Then we have to embarrass Geralt we guess...  
> Triss: Do you need help?  
> Me yessss... *hugs* 
> 
> Any thoughts?  
> Write them in the comments :)  
> Have a nice day!
> 
> PPS: yes i still no nothing about the magic system and make things up on the spot ;)


	17. Thorny grave; early pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier increses the number of curses he casted in his life, Amara being his "volontier"
> 
> Geralt and rest are just behind him. They can smell him close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hell- gahh!   
> *gets attacked by exams*  
> GET OFF ME!  
> _No... u need to defeat us first... coward..._  
> oh fuck...
> 
> ENJOY WHAT I COULD SMUGGLE!!  
> *gets draged back into studing*

The bard we all know and love is standing on a very nice cliff overlooking a Nilfgaardian camp. After walking for a little less than a week he finally caught up with Amara and her soldiers. For men with heavy armour the bastards could move quickly. 

It didn’t help Jaskier’s case that he walked leisurely and had many other small distractions on the way, but the fact still remains. 

They have set their temporary camp close to a random hunter village with a herbalist as its most recognisable and “luxurious” feature. Probably another community scared into submission by the enemy judging by the looks on residents’ faces.

Jaskier notes during his stakeout that Amara seems very keen on making the men do everything for her. And isn’t that amusing to watch.

Currently she’s laying on a sort of picnic blanket and is charming the soldiers into feeding her some of their rations and generally being lowly servants instead of looking and acting like real soldiers marching out for war and bloodshed.

Amara is clearly a witch that prefers being pampered and giving out orders than actually doing anything else or Gods forbit some real work. That’s probably why she can’t sense Jaskier’s magic as he observes them a few meters above. She probably manipulates them into sleeping with her during the night too. That’s the type of a sorceress she is, the bard can basically smell it!

_This is so easy! She’s so focused on the pleasures of the illusionary world that my presence doesn’t even alarm her. HA! Stupid hag. Time for my revenge, you lie filled sweetness._

_I wonder if I’ll feel better after her destruction since it’s only an illusion… Oh well, can’t hurt to try!_

And with that decided Jaskier pulls out his silver baton to focus his thoughts for the show once again. Ever since he stumbled onto his enemies some dark voice was interrupting his creative process. 

_Shut up Void, u useless blob of snot!_

Jaskier roared at his mind’s trickery thinking that he wasn’t alone in his head.

In a calm and slow rhythm he starts to put all the Nilfgaardians under the same curse he used in Brudge. The literally same song and dance. He suspects there will be no resistance and feels a little... disappointed. He walks around the cliff face and gets into the camp proper.

So in the middle of his performance his eyes fill with glee when Amara doesn’t seem to be going down. Unlike the rest of the men currently laying on the ground she’s standing tall; just a hand on her temple as if she had a migraine.

Good, otherwise his victory might feel boring in the ballad he’ll create after all of this imaginary nonsense is done. 

The sorceress quickly glances at her servants and sees them falling down onto their faces with sleep. Letting out her chaos she quickly finds the source of her irritation. Amara is honestly shocked.   
It’s the bard her sister was torturing few days ago, but he looks as healthy as ever… and gained some abilities that shouldn’t be possible. That might be a problem if her chaos isn’t lying to her.  
Sensing power radiating off the musician she stands up with her hands up in a defensive position. She hears him sing but resists such a basic curse thrown at her. Pushing her own spell into the web of chaos Jaskier has to stop his approach and take a step back while gasping from the backlash. 

-You really thought defeating a sorceress is going to be as easy as making few men fall asleep? A brilliant joke! Let me show you what an experienced sorceress can do. – with that said she gathers her magic and wills the roots and stalks of flora near Jaskier to do her bidding in binding the musician. She has more tricks up her sleeve but this should be enough to stop the bard.

Jaskier after stopping his rhythm for a second gathers his wits and starts to thrash in the numerous stalks and other things trying to capture him. He scoffs at the attempt. In this world he’s the one calling the shots. Not to mention that he already experimented with flora during his walk. Its his fantasy and here nothing can hurt him anymore.

\- Using chaos to manipulate flora, such originality!- Jaskier comments about the sorceress’s spell. 

\- But you know what’s better than reshaping something you found? Creating things of your own! – with that sentenced ended Jaskier uses a faster tempo with the same notes but doesn’t sing. He glances at the pathetic imitations of nature around him and focuses on growing new plants at the witch’s feet with his hummings. The silver baton almost glows with his power.

\- What THE-!! – Amara can’t believe what her chaos and eyes are telling her. The bard is using a very ancient kind of magic AND her sister’s chaos that she could recognise anywhere to do the same as she wanted. But better. And also worse for her.

At first only thorny vines climb onto Amara’s green dress but as each inch of her body is covered she loses her ability to move. Jaskier still twirling his baton around smugly walks out of her pathetic attempt at a bind and glides closer to the witch. With elegant swing of his hips he circles his pray and thinks about what to do.

\- Leave creating things for the artists, okey deary? – With a demented grin that clearly shows off his teeth Jaskier places his hand on the woman’s forehead and imagines her power. His fangs became a little bit pointier since he left their captivity - notes the witch. 

Her chaos floating inside, practically begs for him to take it in this state of an illusion. So he visualises taking it and he does. Almost like a drug it lights his body up. It reminds him of the first time Void fed on Antira, but now it is so much better! He can feel it so clearly. 

The sorceress with eyes wide starts to choke on her scream as she feels all of her hard earned power leave her body. With tears in her eyes she observes as the clef glowing on the bard’s neck grows its first black line resembling a stave*. It kind of looks like a very tight necklace, but is actually a mark on the human’s skin. 

_*(stave [or staff] notation of music; the five parallel lines indicating pitch; the lines are professionally called bars and the spaces between them measures; the more you know~)_

The chaos of the two sisters runs through Jaskier giving him a momentary illusion of being undefeatable. Untouchable… 

Strong enough to just for a second believe he’s worthy of starting a search for his wolf. 

Of walking up to him, grabbing him by that sexy armour’s collar and kissing him with all his passion… 

Of being happy with him, because that’s what they deserve…

But it can’t happen… 

Because this is false. Because this world in which he has any power and no fears is just a hallucination. In reality the bard Jaskier is laying broken and unresponsive in a camp near Brudge. 

Already broken and useless... So not much different compared to what he was when he was walking- no stalking a witcher. They weren’t walking hand in hand, he was just shovelling more problems onto his cru… obsession and making his life more difficult. 

Amara horrified croaks out and temporally brakes his spiral:

\- So what do you want to do now bardling? You got your revenge and power... – not understanding the mental state the musician is in the witch has no clue what is the meaning of such transformation. The face she wanted to see in beautiful pain was now inches in front of her and glaring with madness in its eyes at her. Trapped in a cocoon of thorny stems that paralysed her body.

\- Well don’t you worry your little head about that!~~ I still have other hags to eliminate and what happens next only the fates will know. As for you… you’re right I need to change my repertoire a little.- happy to find a distraction and to have ended another bitch-witch of Nilfgaard Jaskier once again takes his silver dagger in hand and forgets about his worries. They’ll be ended soon enough when he wakes in another illusion. He can feel it…

He swings the baton as if it was a magic wand and happily whistling makes the stems blossom into scarlet roses. The body of Amara sags and cuts itself on the many thorns that he also grew and her eyes close with a quick exhale. 

She was right: that sleeping curse was sooo~~ basic. No flare, no beauty, so…. not Jaskier-like. So he modified it with elements he read about in the fairy tail of “the Sleeping Beauty”. And isn’t that a mesmerizing sight to behold. 

Many unconscious, and now forever sleeping soldiers were spread out throughout their camp while in the middle of it all a considerably large rose bush was suspending their leader and letting her blood drip on the ground in slow rhythm, just after it carved crimson lines in her green dress.

_Hmph… unlike Antira, Amara had some sense of style and fashion… and what the hell am I wearing?_

Horrified to finally notice the clothes- no these weren’t even clothes, on his body he punctured first his shirt than pants and every other piece of cloth he had. 

Once brown, tattered and dirty rags turned into an imitation of one of his favourite sky-blue doublets and comfortable trousers. The smallclothes turned into silks and nicely hugged him in all the right places. The bag he carried with him also was transformed into one of these decorated purses he had seen in court hanging from a ladies’ shoulder. Everything matched perfectly and beautifully. 

Proud of his work Jaskier continuous his walk to Vizima, mentally crossing out Amara from his hitlist of hags to kill. His body feels stronger and the air around him more charged. He doesn’t know why but he feels powerful. Even in the fantasy he created that can be taken from him in any moment. 

He’s so happy he learnt about every other royal court on the continent. At least now he knows who he still has to eliminate to stop the marching troops and be the fantastically fake saviour of his White Wolf.

_Two witches down, four remaining pillars of Nilfgaard’s army left to go!_

With a feral grin and twitchy hands the Humming Bard of Curses goes further, closer to his goal.

**-~~~~~~-**

Geralt, his charge and Yennefer were riding after Jaskier for a week now and excluding the small trinkets and things popping along the road or the enchanted girl they travelled without any larger surprises or findings.

So they had to stop dead in their tracks and jaws good as dropped, when they saw another cursed troop of Nilfgaardian soldiers and their leading mage in a field of bloodied blooming roses.   
They did suspect that if Jaskier and his maybe; maybe-not existing companion crossed paths with the soldiers of the black sun that there might be a battle, but not another curse as strong as this. So soon and with such scale; this was getting on Geralt’s nerves. This shouldn’t be possible for any mortal being. 

So much chaos normally couldn’t be wielded by one person without some shenanigans in play. But this had stolen other’s power. They have to get these and other mysteries solved or so help him; he’s going to go bald with all this worry in his gut for his bard. 

The adults dismount and start looking around the camp, ignoring the obvious and clear things for now. 

Just like before the villagers took almost all of the things edible and useful for them. Geralt did find thou a few things that made his medallion move slightly. These were the remains of a xenovox and by its looks was broken at the same time as the one they found in Brudge. Now knowing that the sorceresses lost their normal means of communication Geralt feels a little bit better that they won’t be able to spread information about their whereabout so quickly. 

Yennefer lets her chaos out and follows the lines and strands of magic shaped by human hands. The whole camp, just like before is covered with the same weird combination of spells but lacks the sickening remains of great tragedy or pain. Compared with the previous curse of sleep this one is much more elegant and harmonised. The caster, whoever they are, is getting better at doing magic.   
When they are finished with their separate rounds around the campsite and Ciri has finished taking care of the horses they move together to inspect the central piece of this artwork. The sorceress encased in beautiful crimson roses that almost scream at them with chaos. 

These plants make Geralt’s wolf medallion shake and his frown deepen. The witch has no noticeable injuries with the exception of a red spot on her forehead. After looking at her body over and over the witcher feels agitated and angry at himself. 

If Yennefer wasn’t present he wouldn’t be able to tell what the hell is going on or what happened to the mage. Over the course of his life he has never seen a curse so… beautiful and yet so not invasive. And this in turn only further contradicts his theory that Jaskier is traveling with a saviour. Only he would create such thing… a pretty curse, only Jaskier and his wonderful heart of a child.

But that comes with its own set of problems. Is it really possible that his precious, fragile Jaskier actually escaped alone from the armie’s clutches and is the cause of all of this? If yes then what happened to him, and if no then what happened to the bard; is he even safe? 

The fresher scent at least tells him they are traveling in the right direction and catching up to his bard.

While our dear White Wolf has another internal crisis Yennefer allows her chaos to further gather information for her. 

Thanks to the somewhat relaxing week of travel most of her reservoir is finally half full after the stunt she pulled on the Sodden Hill. She interprets the currents of magic present and summarises for her partner in crim- er… investigation. 

-Well Geralt, whoever cast these curses is the same person. The mark of their magic is the same: both humanoid chaos and natural forces working in tandem to do whatever the caster wanted. – she has already stood up and is circling the bush as if it was her pray and she a hawk.

-Hmm…- still irritated the witcher leaves his comment at that.

-Both sorceresses were drained of both their knowledge about magic and chaos. Although this isn’t magically hurt, just cursed into this position. And the red mark on her forehead is the place the creature stole all her power. – Yennefer is unsettled by her own findings. Losing all your power you worked hard for and sacrificed parts of oneself is something she believes she wouldn’t wish on any of her enemies. Not while knowing what the sorceresses of Aretuza had to lose to become what they are. 

\- The most worrisome is the way the creature cast the curse. Geralt, it’s getting both stronger and more adept at its uses. If this escalates further when we meet whatever is doing this we won’t stand a chance. It already has 2 sorceresses’ power collected. Not to mention its own. If we continue to look for Jaskier and encounter it we should hope its friendly.- not wanting to stay any longer in this place and look at the miserable figure Yennefer ends her commentary and goes around the camp gathering useful for them things. 

Geralt is still looking at the rose bushes and bitterly accepted the possibility that the one theory he didn’t want to voice was becoming more and more probable. 

-I think the girl didn’t lie or didn’t notice Jaskier’s companion… I think he’s responsible for all of these curses…- not looking at Yen but knowing she heard the witcher glances at Ciri and her shocked expression. 

_Shit! she didn’t hear all of our theories in the night._

\- What?! Why would Jaskier do that? He’s the nicest person I know… he must have a reason…- distracted by the bomb the adults have thrown her way Ciri trips over a root of a rose bush and scraps her knee and hand.

-Ouch… - in the next heartbeat Geralt is, of course by her side looking at the “grave wounds”. Thankfully there’s no big rocks or dirt logged in the skin so a little bit of water and clean cloth should do.

-Hmm…- telling everything everyone needs to know Geralt takes Ciri with him over to the horses and takes care of her wounds. 

Yennefer packs what they found as useful into one of her very own enchanted bags and they go on to Malibor after Jaskier.

This time after dinner all three of them discuss what might have happened to Jaskier.

Geralt can feel it; he's getting closer to the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *escapes for a second*  
> WHat do you thin-   
> *drowning again*  
> *resurfaces*  
> Have a nice-   
> *blub blib blub*


	18. We meet again in Malibor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier spends a nice day in Malibor and gets ready to get rid of another witch of Nilfgaard.  
> With a few hiccups in his plan he succeeds.
> 
> Geralt arrives in the city just as his bard's battle begins and when he sees his beloved he's standing victorious over the defeated Nilfgaardian forces.  
> He does not suspect what Jaskier will do to him next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a cliff-hanger and I'm sorry, but hey- I need the drama.
> 
> Hope you enjoy ;)

Jaskier is so **happy** to have been living in this illusion for so long.

He’s well fed; allowed to be as loud and annoying as he wants. 

Nobody can hurt him. Physically or emotionally. 

He doesn’t have to deal with dumb villagers and their reactions to his singing or his witcher.

He doesn’t really tire, can will anything to happen. 

He can do whatever he wants,

but the one thing he wants the most…

He can’t have a real and fulfilling relationship with his White Wolf… all because their meeting will break this vision. And he doesn’t want to end it prematurely, oh no! He’s happily skipping along the path to Malibor with another witch of Nilfgaard on his radar. 

Trefolia is said to be one of the more “proper” sorceresses of the empire. Usually dealing with nobles and their petty squabbles one might suspect she’s a pushover, but supposedly she has some **spunk.** He didn’t graduate under Fringilla to be one of the most feared mages by the nobility’s accounts for nothing. The lady can be a force of nature.

After her it’s just Petunia; the cruel seductress of Nilfgaard and Azalea; the right hand of Fringilla Vigo that most men down south know and fear. Overall Fringilla’s students are ones of the most powerful, each different and still terrifyingly efficient at serving the emperor’s whims. 

He arrives just at the break of dawn when the merchants are setting up their wares for sale. His feet dance from stall to another, while his hands examine various trinkets, jewels and tasty treats. The smell of freshly bakes cakes with honey catches his attention immediately. 

With a grin on his face Jaskier happily pays with his stolen coin from previous encounters with the enemy and goes around tasting many pleasures the illusionary city has to offer him. This is the state of reality he is in, so why not indulge? 

He bites into the food without any emotion. 

While the sweet tasting pastries coat his tongue the ex-performer (only for the lack of an instrument) sits on a bench in the main market. He thinks of what his goal is beyond the now active “kill the witches” quest. This is only temporary and its no guarantee he will remember any of this. 

And yet this is for sure the longest time he was allowed to spend in one vision. He wants to have something to do, unless he wants to have constant life crisis. 

There’s no Geralt to drag him somewhere to heal after he’s saved, because he’s **out of the dungeon** already. And healthy as a bonus thanks to the Void. “I swear it’s still here laughing at my stupidity” thinks Jaskier finishing his meal. 

No Yennefer to laugh at him for all his mistakes or blurry Ciri to guilt trip him for what he has done.

While walking by a brothel he starts a conversation with one of the ladies, complementing her on the flowers she has set on the windowsill. They’re a beautiful set of red roses, and if she’s to be believed are the very ones they use for the bedrooms. 

They talk for what feels hours about the different meanings flowers can have. Since it’s common practice to name yourself after a change in profession or status, they sometimes choose them to match their personality not only the looks. And so the bard learns that **Antirrhinum** flower can mean deception and the **Amaranthus** hopelessness, among other more boring things like Love and Devotion roses typically represent. He thinks he will remember this topic for his next few ballads. 

There is no thing as too much metaphor in a song if you ask him. And its something new and interesting. Or at least something to remember from his past in Oxenfurt.

And yet he feels bored and empty. 

After having a good enough day in the city Jaskier is ready to depart when he catches the sight of one Nilfgaardian soldier. And then spots the second. And then the third. This in turn leads to some deeper thinking.

_Well didn’t they spring up like mushrooms after rain… Wonder why they’re here, must have a camp outside the city gates. Which means another witch is in the vicinity. I had enough rest to grow bored once again, I hope she will be a fun challenge~._

The bard follows his pray into the camping grounds set just outside the city walls. There’s few tents set up, three of which clearly belong to “noble” generals and a sorceress. Standing just outside the area he can’t see too well where his target could be sitting, but it’s no concern for now. 

He focuses on lowering his chaotic energies, calming him mind. On hiding his presence. Jaskier waits for nightfall while scouting out the camps with over a hundred men in attendance at all times. By the looks of it a fifth went into the city to relax for the night. The rest is sitting and protecting the nobles filling inside this treat left for the musician. This is so typical and boring.

When the cover of the night is firmly in place the bard goes to spy on the unsuspecting victims. He wants some excitement so he won’t curse them out of the gate. Jaskier’s body twitches with unused power and he wants to test it in combat, just like his Wolf did during the hunts. With a mad grin he descends. 

In the central grand tent he finds two older generals discussing their next plans of attack and travel. Thinking nothing of it Jaskier changes his position to try and see more only to be startled by a voice behind him.

-And what do you think you’re doing?- the silky smooth words coming out of none other than Trefolia’s lips make him shiver. With temporary fear the musician doesn’t even try to talk. 

He remembers the city folk talking about their new neighbours. Lady Trefolia despises nonsense. And so the other men in her charge. If Jaskier wants to keep his tongue he should stay quiet for now. But he wants some **excitement.** This is his fantasy and he desires entertainment. But no this is too soon! The act one- stealthy bard is still running its course. 

-Lady Trefolia? Is everything alright in there? – a deep voice of one of the generals distracts the mage for just a second. Enough for Jaskier to sprint in the other direction. Unfortunately the many, **many** other men also present in the camp swiftly block his way. 

\- We have somebody trying to be a spy.- she answers the man with louder than needed voice- Who are you? – With controlled tone Trefolia walks closer to the bard in her simple cyan dress and looks over him judgingly with honey coloured eyes. The rest of the soldiers have already surrounded Jaskier and so he choses to face the sorceress head on.

\- Well, my Lady, I’m just a traveling bard. No need to worry yourself ove- before he gets a chance to finish the mage cuts him off.

-Oh yes, my bad. There are so many bards **without an instrument** and crouching just outside our tents that I get confused. Cut the crap. Who really are you? Judging by the clothes at least a merchant and at worst a local noble. – With squinted eyes, not only because of the dark Trefolia has already started investigating the intruder.

Jaskier confident in the illusion as ever does not fold under her gaze.

-Who I am does not matter. But what does is that if we are to fight one on one I might let you live after I curse you.- fuelled by the now two different sorceresses’ chaos and his own taste for theatrics the bard offers the challenge without a note of fear or humour. This in turn only makes all soldiers laugh at him, while the challenged mage snickers into her hand. 

Jaskier curses internally for his panicked thinking and feels the sweat that has started to roll down his back. If he just was more stealthy! But then again: he wanted a challenge. What’s better than having to fight all your enemies on the outside, open and at once?

-Hilarious little one! And what makes you think you can fight me? Do you know who I am?- with rejuvenated spirits and in dire need of entertainment Trefolia stands confidently with her hands on her hips. Her expression the very same one found on every smug and cocky person ever; the smirk is pulling her right cheek up. 

-I recognise you, but I have just learnt of you when I was cursing your sisters. But, well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t care for their situations. – Reading himself Jaskier reaches for his enchanted purse/ satchel and is ready to attack. His comment stops the men’s actions and makes the mage’s eyebrows lift. He’ll take it as a small victory.

-You… what? You were the one? Are you **kidding?** How a little thing like you is able to jest about such a thing?- perplexed and suspicious the mage recounts the last time she spoke with either Antira or Amara.- I sense no chaos in you; for you to do anything magical. For such obvious lies you are going to be executed. Soldiers, get him and hang out of my sight. – Annoyed with the remainder of the sudden disappearance the witch turns on her heel to walk straight back into the tent, thinking the pest has been delt with.

\- Don’t you dare touch me!...- Jaskier triumphantly raises his revealed silver blade, pointing it at the now approaching men. They only sneer in annoyance. They have strength in numbers, training and weapons; who this noble thinks he is?

\- Aww, cute dagger. But accept the consequences and give up. We all want to sleep. And now we have to hang you for your stupidity. – the soldiers are coming closer and closer in, limiting the space available for the bard. Taking his air from him and reading rope for his bindings. Flashes of that horrid dungeon slither through the cracks of his psyche and plunge the musician in fear.

- **NO!** – with a booming shout Jaskier lets his magic back out and forces all approaching to take a few steps back; maybe a few stager a little. The effect is the same as if he used some weak aard. This gets the sorceress’s attention.

-What the hell?! – angered and intrigued she sends out her chaos to analysis the human in more depth, while in her hands zaps of lightning start to be visible. All the men that weren’t already wielding a weapon try to grab something near them. 

Finally allowing for his person to be recognised Trefolia senses the chaos storming inside the bard. It’s nothing she has seen before in her life or even studied about. None of what she is witness to is logical. With her own magic she conjures a lighting bolt to fly from her hands into the musician.

“ **AUGH!** That hurt!” he screams as a response and twirls his baton to make sure the fight stays between Jaskier and her. With a sombre tempo a barrier of solid light is formed in the middle of the camp and the approaching soldiers are left outside the bubble. After he’s done only he and the witch are inside and both ready to fight. She with her power, he with his music. 

-You weren’t kidding when you said you wanted to challenge me. Fine! Show me what you’ve got worm!- Trefolia releases another set of electricity in the bard’s direction. 

Jaskier barely dodges and lifts his blade to aim at some abandoned swords in the camp. With a reverberating note sung as if he was in an opera he wills them to fly at his target. 

She in turn redirects them easily and summons more lightning. The clouds above; thanks to the dramatics of mother nature, combine and cover almost all of the sky. Between the grey spaces moonlight shines through. 

Jaskier disappointed that his attack didn’t work sings a short verse to the roots hidden in the ground. They rise up a this request and try to immobilise the witch. 

She counters his chaos with her own and quickly dispels his attempt again.

With neither trying to comment on the situation or underestimating their opponent the battle carries on in silence. Only when Jaskier tries for another tactic is any speech heard at all. 

Their grunts and spells fly through the air. 

Neither giving up.

Jaskier is only merrier to finally have a challenge. The barrier he created zaps some of his energy constantly and Trefolia’s attacks keep him o his toes. 

The campgrounds are damaged with scorch marks, some holes and sliced ground. 

When Jaskier uses nature, the witch kills it.

When he uses steel, she redirects it.

When he tries to cast anything directly she blocks without any signs of exhaustion. 

And so their battle goes on. The men outside the barrier have mostly given up on taking it down. Ready to interfere when their leader presumably wins they watch the spectacle. The distance between the two always constant.

The bard’s voice steady, they carry on with their dance. He’s certain he will win.

****

-~~~~~~-

****

**  
**

While having to ride a horse for another week wasn’t the biggest comfort it did allow for Geralt to try and relax a bit. 

With Yennefer and Ciri next to him, and Roach under he feels better. And he needs it for what they’re about to do. Malibor is a big enough city to be important in this war. And it being in a direct route from Nilfgaard to Vizima’s capital probably raises the probability of it being attacked and overtaken. 

The citizens are probably already under the influence of one of the sorceresses and won’t hesitate to sell them out. 

So while riding closer to the city’s gates Geralt is surprised to realise that the scent of his bard is **fresh** on these empty night streets. Only few people working in the night and taverns are things they need to avoid but otherwise he can still trace Jaskier’s smell in the putrid stench of the city. 

-He’s been here today. – He says to Yennefer when dismounting in the main market place. Jaskier must have spent some time here, judging by the amount of scent that still lingers. 

-Jaskier’s been here? Well aren’t we lucky; maybe he hasn’t been captured again. You must have seen the soldier outside the taverns- the city is taken. – The sorceress whispers back from atop her horse, with Ciri in front. 

-He’s close, Yenn. He is so _close…_ \- Looking around for the direction Jaskier has gone in Geralt almost goes in circles. 

He searches for a few minutes in which both Yennefer and Ciri dismount and look out for trouble. In that moment they hear, or more accurately feel a screamed “No”.

Ciri not having mastered the chaos insider her or having the mutations of a witcher can only look at their faces when they simultaneously look in the direction of the northern gate. 

-Was that what I think it was?..- Yennefer asks not believing her own body. The scream had similar effect to one of Cirilla’s but its nature had the same characteristic they have encountered on their hunt.  
Geralt not only felt his medallion move slightly from the power emanating from the other side of the city, but actually heard his bard scream. His instincts in turned also demanded that he runs and saves his bellowed. 

-It’s Jaskier’s voice. Yennefer you are going with me. Ciri take Pegasus and be ready to run if something happens. – Geralt instructs his child, while already reading himself for slaughter and putting most important survival things onto Pegasus from Roach.

-What? No, I want to help, we don- the princess is already trying to go and help her friend even if she doesn’t know of the full danger. Before her protests can be heard Yennefer intersects.

-We need you to be safe. The army is looking for you, and we both can defend ourselves. You have barely a week of training in the evenings. – with no space for any buts and ifs she takes Roach and with Geralt go in the direction of the scream. After riding for a few than more minutes while avoiding the soldiers they finally can see the exit from the city. Geralt is already running on the ground with a sword ready to battle they reach the northern gate.

The whole time they were getting closer and closer, the chaos filing the air grow stronger and stronger. The weight of the events transpiring just on the other side could be felt inside the city. They feel a strong something being cast just as they are about to approach. 

Ciri not discouraged sneakily follows them a few paces behind, hiding in the shadows. She can also feel that something is not right. 

When the duo pushes through the gate they see something they didn’t want to believe. 

A field that used to be a camping ground filled with stone statues. 

Ground splintered and burned, soldiers twisted and stuck in running poses and scent of chaos thick and sickening. 

And in the middle of it all, in a clearing, void of anything except a lone statue of a kneeling sorceress stands the person they have been running after all along. 

Jaskier, roughened up and panting, holding a dagger in his hand and twirling it in the air. His face turned in the opposite direction still clearly pointed to the sky in triumph. And he’s **laughing.**

Not the type of a laugh Geralt heard when sometimes he jested with his bard, no. 

This one was mad, and creepy and did not belong in Jaskier’s mouth.

With terror making his legs and arms feel like lead Geralt runs in the direction of the sound. 

He stands on the edge of the clearing, dizzy with all the emotions clogging his head. 

He’s found him.

But what kind of a victory is this. 

When he softly calls out to his bard: “Jaskier…” the scent of victory, satisfaction and joy that was pouring from the musician fade away instantaneously. 

And when he turns around and sees Geralt’s face the witcher can smell the one thing he wished he wouldn’t on his bard. Not because of him.

Fear, **terror** and paranoia hit him like a punch to his gut and he can barely stand. 

Jaskier’s face full of shock contorts in disgust and anger. 

He faintly starts to say something which gets cut off. Then as Geralt can see his eyes, his beautiful blue eyes look behind him and widen even more he doesn’t expect what happens next. 

The bard inhales with anger and with a bloodcurdling volume screeches: “NO!!!” and does something very impulsive. 

Before Geralt can feel Yennefer trying to run to him and protect them with her chaos the witcher is laying on the ground unconscious, along with the sorceress who has been pushed away and trying to stand up. 

He doesn’t see the furious expression on his bard’s face as he raises his dagger and aims it at Geralt’s chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *laughts maniacly*
> 
> I wonder what will happen next, hmmm??? 
> 
> Please scream at me in the comments.  
> I'll answer all (most) of your questions as best as I can :)
> 
> Have a nice day!


End file.
